


The Other Side

by FrostedGemstones22



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostedGemstones22/pseuds/FrostedGemstones22
Summary: After the Fall of Hogwarts, Hermione and those that are left must flee with the remaining children to somewhere outside of England, if they hope at all to save what is left of the London Wizarding World. She tells herself that she only likes Seamus because he's one of the few single wizards left, she tells herself he seems to be showing interest for similar reasons.





	1. Inferno

**Author's Note:**

> Yes! Finally! Here it it, the much anticipated Seamione one shot that somehow turned itself into a three-shot. If you're here from my Dramione story 'The Green Games' that had Seamione as a secondary pairing, welcome. If you're here because you like Seamione, this very rare ship, glad to see ya! If you're not sure why you're here, glad you could stumble in and I hope I turn you onto a new ship :)
> 
> The title of this story, a a bit of the plot in certain parts, comes from a wonderfully heavy song called 'The Other Side' by Woodkid. The whole album, tbh that this song is on, is just a masterpiece. If you ever want something romantic and hard and deep...listen to that, because really, it's quite worth it. The song I first heard was on s1 of the 100 (if you follow me as a writer, you know I ALSO love that show) and it was such a perfect exodus piece for the scene it was in. Poetic cinema...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this part 1. I'll see you all in bold on the other side, yo!

I heard a whisper on my shoulder  
Pretending life is worth the fight  
O can you hear the song of thunder  
When fear strangles a soldier's pride  
And on the surface of the waters  
Will dance reflections of the fire in the night

I remember cheering from towers  
A face is smiling in the light  
I remember the bells, the flowers  
Those days are dying in the dark

Boy I was shaped for the fury  
Now I pay the price  
Of the human race's vice  
And I was promised  
The glorious ending of a knight  
But the crown is out of sight

I'm slowly drifting into slumber  
Cause I have lost the force to fight  
It's like a cold hand on my shoulder  
I'll see you on the other side

And in the arms of endless anger  
Will end the story of a soldier in the dark

The Other Side-Woodkid

THEOTHERSIDE

The exodus from Hogwarts stood out starkly in Hermione's mind as the worst moment of her life. She recalled standing speechless on the ridge in the Forbidden Forest above the school, watching in horror as her entire world burned to the ground around her. She could still see the flashes of spells, as vivid and quick as lightning, of the brave souls of teachers and parents that had defended their children until their very last breath so at least some of them could escape. She remembered the feeling of students pouring out around her, brushing against her as they trampled through the underbrush, fear alighting their veins and looking to anyone for answers. She remembered the smell of decay, of death. The smell of Hogwarts burning and crumpling to the ground in front of her, years of memories sliding away all too fast.

She remembered Harry's pale face and faint breathing, just enough to assure her that he wasn't dead...yet. She remembered knowing this was the moment that it was over, the horrible gut-wrenching feeling of their victory, freedom, and lives snatched away.

She remembered the first years looking up to her, Hermione Granger, desperately seeking answers and Hermione looking around for an adult before realizing with a sense of dread she was one of the most senior ones there. It was the realization that somehow she'd moved from the box that was childhood, simple joys, and simple problems to adulthood with real responsibilities and difficult choices. While maybe it happened happened right then and there, it wasn't a position she'd realized she'd come into. She had no choice but to dive into that now.

They hadn't gotten a chance to evacuate the school before Voldemort came. They hadn't been expecting it, but in a way they were always expecting it, yet they were sorely unprepared. Children were shoved in secret passageways and behind locked doors, praying that anyone below the age of adulthood would merely survive without having to be traumatized the rest of their lives.

Despite their lack of readiness, in the beginning, it had almost been okay, until it wasn't.

Somewhere, something had gone horribly wrong in the battle. Hermione couldn't pinpoint it, she just could feel the shift of everyone from almost winning to losing swiftly. Their descent was like a muddy slope and Hermione was clawing the hardest to reach the top but she just couldn't. McGonagall yelling at them to leave, save themselves while defending against five or six Death Eaters, the resolution in her voice was a slap in the face. It was the moment just before Harry was nearly killed and Hermione realized if they stayed they'd lose it all.

Some people had to survive this.

So she'd moved her efforts to finding people to help carry Harry's body away, and he was like a rag-doll in their hands, and gathering up the children hiding and focusing on ferrying them out of the castle. Their parents and teachers fought around Hermione to keep them alive, their eyes entrusting her and a couple others to keep the next generation of witches and wizards on their feet. She would have loved to stay and fight her way but with Harry all but lost there wasn't much else she could do unless she was ready to sacrifice herself for something no one was sure they could win anymore.

So the children fled into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, people like Lee and Fred and George and Oliver calling them to their voices, trying to gather as many as they could into a circle, counting heads and going through class lists.

Hermione stumbled through the underbrush, her movements loud and imprecise, like a lumbering beast crashing through the forest. Her mind was numb. Her hands, red with blood, were numb. Her feet, aching, were numb. Everything was numb.

She stumbled over a lump on the ground and a quiet cry caught her her throat when she realized it was Padma, on the ground, the Ravenclaw's eyes hollow.

"Padma!" Hermione whispered, dropping to the ground, pressing her hands firmly over the place where blood bubbled from an open wound at her neck. Padma's hand gently came up to touch Hermione's.

"Padma, we're gonna be okay. I'll help you. Hold this, c'mon, you gotta hold onto this." Hermione whispered frantically, grabbing her scarf from her bag and shoving it against the wound, pulling Padma's hands to it. Her fingers numbly brushed the fabric before falling to the forest floor. The light had died from her eyes.

"Padma, please, no, hold on..." Hermione couldn't find the strength to leave her, and hardly noticed she'd slipped away. A figure crouched next to the two of them, among the fleeing silhouettes around her.

"Hermione," Hermione looked up to meet the carribean-blue eyes of Seamus. He looked like he'd seen better days, his chin split open and bruises already forming around his cheekbones and eyes, but he was still alive. His eyes were tender, understanding, "She's at peace now. We can't save everyone." He sounded deeply apologetic, but not condescending. Hermione's hands reluctantly left Padma's hands, and she stared down at her comrad before her. Seamus leaned over, shaking his head, and closed her eyes with two of his fingers.

"I'll see you on the other side," He murmured with deep mourning, before standing, "We have to leave her. I know that, you know that." He said. Hermione nodded quietly and stood, and he ducked away to help a limping third-year.

The smell of burning-wood and human flesh alike- met her nostrils and she couldn't help but look back over her once beloved home. If she thought this moment with Padma was bad, she had no clue what seeing Hogwarts torn to pebbles and burnt to ashes would do to her.

"Hermione, it's gone." Ron's voice was quiet behind her. He had Lavender Brown under his arm, her face almost unrecognizable through the deep claw marks. She looked pale and limp and for a second Hermione wasn't sure she was alive, until she made a jerking motion and whimpered in pain.

"I can't..." Hermione fumbled for her words, feeling hot tears streak down her cheeks, "What do we do now?" She hated imagining a world where Voldemort had won and her very existence was going to be actively hunted down. She couldn't imagine a world where all her teachers and some parents she'd known for years were slaughtered in the hope that a select few could escape. These children would be targets too, she registered, looking on their dirt-stained flesh and wide-eyes.

"We find somewhere safe, first." Ron said, straightening his back and taking on a role of a leader now that Harry wasn't here to do so, "We need somewhere we can re-group, keep them alive...for who knows long." Ron had always been good at strategizing. Strategizing for war and strategizing for survival weren't the most different of things, yet she was a little surprised Ron was the first to take action. It spurred her mind; she blinked away her own pain.

The second bit was whispered painfully under his breath, and Hermione felt her heart clench. She hated the uncertainty of it all. They might not be able to come back for years. The entire adult population of the Order might be wiped out. What could couple hardly legal young adults do to fill their shoes? She knew that Ron couldn't do this alone, she had to step it up too.

"The Forest of Dean." Hermione said automatically, "We were safe there a long time. We can be safe again." She felt her body start to relax a tiny bit. Planning was second nature to her. Planning Hermione could do, "We still have the tent. I saw a cabin in the distance, once, while you were gone. If we get enough of us that are 7th years and above we can all use a extension spell. That might be enough." She didn't really think so, but it was all they had. From Ron's eyes, he could hear the way her voice faltered at 'might' and from the way his eyes darkened he seemed to agree with her. But that was gone just as quick as it was there. He also seemed to be preparing himself to say something- maybe it was about that hasty kiss they'd had in the tunnels- but then again, was this the time? And if it were, was there something to say? Hermione hadn't felt it, those sparks she'd wanted to have felt forever, and she had read the way Ron's face had turned that he hadn't felt them either. Maybe it was simpler to go on knowing that they both knew, and that they didn't need to say it. But here at the end of the world she was sure glad he was around.

Ron nodded grimly, and held out a hand to her. She took it and let herself relax into his warmth for a moment. But that's all she could allow herself to feel because she knew after this moment she would be a true leader and she didn't have much of a choice.

The night fell on the camp. It was hours before everything was settled, and that was a loose term. The cabin had been simple enough to find, and as Hermione had predicted, it was abandoned. It smelled something like a decaying carcass and there was a fine layer of dust over everything, but it had a roof over everyone's head and they certainty needed it once they got the chance to do a headcount. As it was, only about a 5th of the school had made it with them. This was no small feat, because Hermione found herself staring at the faces of about nearly 100 tired and crying children, aged anywhere from 1st year all the way up to already graduated. And, as much as she wanted to be so brave for all the kids that had tears streaming down her face, she couldn't, not in the way she felt she should be. But, when she saw Lee press the palms of his hands to his eyes to wipe away something that also looked like tears, she felt better.

"It's okay to cry, children," Luna was going around, patting shoulders, "It lets the hurt out."

On any other day, Hermione might have argued it, but for once, it sounded sane. And she too wanted to let the hurt out. But at the moment, she gathered her pain and continued on.

There wasn't enough blankets to go around and most children fell asleep hugging each other in heaps. There were so many injured too that Hermione couldn't even fathom where to begin. It was unanimously decided that Harry should take the priority because if Harry was alive they had a small chance of overthrowing Voldemort. Without him, their percentage seemed a lot less likely.

Dean went around charting the people that were here and the people that hadn't made it. Ernie was resolute in the opinion that more would show up, more were alive. This couldn't be all that was left of Hogwarts, he argued. Even if more did show up, Hermione wasn't even sure how they could accomodate more children. She couldn't imagine keeping the 100 or so alive that they had now.

When most were asleep, and Hermione had gone through along with Susan's help and healed as many minor things as she could and prioritized the ones most badly hurt, she found herself sitting against a tree.

It was pretty here, just as she'd recalled it as a child, just as it was in her memories from this past year. She walked the farthest away she could get from everyone without inciting worry and threw up a barrier around herself. She sank down against the roots, wand clenched tightly in her fingers. Under her nails was red blood, darkened and old now. She herself had at least four cuts she could count, but none of that had been fixed yet, not when so many others were worse off.

Her fingers twitched as she remembered how she had shoved children to Fred and Oliver, who were apparating them at least to the edge of the campus, and she'd turned and watched as Kingsley was felled by a group of Death Eaters. She'd so badly wanted to run into the fight with him, help him, but she'd once again pulled her wants and turned around to help the children escape. He was dead...she felt that with a certainty in her gut, one that tugged and blamed and darkened.

She saw Luna's kind face, remembered her words this evening, and sobbed.

A twing snapped close to her. She couldn't stop crying once she had started so she tried to reign it in, but that just made her cry more. She managed to halt her sorrow to just a couple hiccuping sighs and sniffles and gasps, turning to see Seamus staring at her wide-eyed.

"You, ah, missed dinner. I know ya have been savin' everyone else, so I…" He seemed caught off-guard, holding some meat on a stick. After they'd given whatever good food to the youngest, Susan and Ernie had gone hunting and come back with some unappitizing looking rodents and a bird or two. Hermione hadn't stuck around for her fill, because she had just needed to get away.

"I'll just, leave it here then." He said, planting the stick firmly in the ground, then turned. But then, he paused, "Are you okay?"

Despite the look on his face that told Hermione he had no idea how to comfort a crying girl, he looked guinely concerned.

"No, I'm not." Hermione threw down her shield, her voice crackling, "How is anything okay?" She demanded.

"I..stuipd question, I guess…" Seamus winced. Hermione crawled to the food, but in reality, she just wanted to curl up on the forest floor and fade away.

"Yeah," She agreed, "It sort of was." A thin smile came over her lips. Seamus nodded.

"You're coming back, right?"

"Yeah, I just need...I'll be back." She said, unble to articulate why she was out here.

Seamus hesitated, lingered, but then vanished.

She wondered why Seamus had noticed her missing. He had seen her in rough shape earlier today, but wasn't Ron wondering where she was? Or, maybe Ron was with Lavender. Either way, Seamus was her classmate, but it was a stretch to call him a friend. Whatever the reason, she was greatful.

When she returned, her eyes sought him out, but he was caught up talking to Dean and Morag. She nodded, chuckling, and went to ask Oliver if there was anything she could do.

That first night, everyone was just waiting for help, waiting to be rescued. No one imagined this was anything permanent.

"We shouldn't have fires." Cormac spat as a tiny flame flickered inside a circle of ragged survivors, "If anyone's looking..." He pursed his lips, unable to finish his sentence.

"But Hermione said this place was safe," A young fourth-year whispered.

"It is," Hermione said automatically, but internally she only hoped.

"We shouldn't take any chances." Cormac said and everyone watched as he stopped out the fire, pitifully small as it was to begin with, and no one said anything. Perhaps people weren't in the mood for an argument or perhaps they agreed. Hermione turned toward the pond a stone's throw away from them, curling up on the peaty soil with her coat as a pillow, watching the stars dance on the water's edge. If they weren't running for their lives, it was almost beautiful.

The second day, there had to be plans made. Even if people were coming, there were necessities to tend to. There was also the question that was on everyone's minds that would eventually be asked; what if this was it? What if no one ever came? Sure, it was only a day after, and things were probably hectic but the question was still somewhere in everyone's minds.

That second night, the most senior to have survived met near the pond outside the house and tent.

The twins, Lee, Oliver, Viktor, Alicia, Cormac, Cho, and Warrington were the only ones who had made it out for the adults that had already graduated. Warrington's presence caused quite the stir, a Slytherin in the mix, and he'd even submitted to intense mind and memory searches to prove he wasn't and had never been on Voldemort's side-something Hermione had felt moderately uncomfortable watching, but hadn't made a motion to stop. She hated the way this war had hardened her, she hated how untrusting she'd become, but it was a necessary task.

He was a muggle-born, something he'd hid his entire life from his fellow snakes. His parents had been killed a week ago when someone let it slip. He was here on behalf of the young Slytherin children whose war this wasn't and whose parents weren't like those of the Notts or the Malfoys. Ron glared at him, most gave him a wide berth, and Hermione was just hoping this wouldn't bite them in the ass.

As for the 7th years, their numbers were better than she thought. Ron had made it out, as had Seamus, Dean, Susan, Neville, Ernie, Hannah, Michael, Anthony, and Lisa. There were also the ones not currently there because they were injured. Su Li had argued into trying to be at the meeting, despite having one arm that was just sinew and useless and Hermione knew would probably need to be amputated. Lavender had fallen unconscious in their journey here and was still out cold and Ron had only left her side when the meeting was called. Zacharias Smith was cursed with some sort of hex no one recognized and had begun to sport a fever that worried Hermione greatly. Harry was in a sort of quiet coma that terrified everyone.

Some 6th years were invited to join, due to their connection with members in the years above or exemplary bravery trying to evacuate the children. Some 6th years had reverted back to being small and cried, a painful reminder that most of these kids were hardly sixteen, while others had rose to the occasion.

Ginny, Colin, Luna, and Morag sat in with everyone else, not looking a bit out of place amongst such weary warriors.

In some ways, their council was large. In others, it was pitifully small and Hermione felt so saddened looking around, imagining that this might be all there was left to look at.

"We need to focus on surviving. Just surviving the days," Oliver took the lead, as he was the eldest besides Viktor, but Viktor didn't know these children like Oliver did, "Before we do anything relating to getting back."

"Won't these kids miss their parents?" Colin said, furrowing his eyebrows, "Won't they want to know we're alive?"

"And risk alerting Him where we are, and that we made it out?" Warrington argued angrily, "Hell no. I saw McGonagall transfiguration fallen bodies to look like some of our own. Like you two," He looked at Hermione and Ron sitting next to each other, "And Harry. Other big names. You're essentially ghosts now. We need to keep that up."

"So we can't leave here?" Ron bristled.

"As much as I hate agreeing with a Slytherin," Alicia winced, "He's right. Until we know more you all need to keep a low profile. There are plenty of us left to carry out the other jobs."

"I think first we need to let those seeking asylum know where we are." Ernie said, still adamant there were others searching, "It was bedlam. We're sure to have missed some kids."

"We can use the radio, like we did with you three earlier this year." Fred said, nudging his twin, "Something between the lines though. Less obvious. If He really did win..." Fred blew out a long breath.

"We're fucked." Seamus agreed plainly, and although Hermione didn't like his language, she didn't disagree. No one did.

"I think we have to prepare for a much different world now." Lee said, steeling himself as he sat upright, "And realize we might be the last sanctuary anywhere. This might be okay now, but snatchers were here once. I think...we need to find somewhere else. Maybe leave England entirely." He said softly.

"No." Hermione felt herself speak before she could stop herself, "I won't."

"We might not have that sort of option anymore." Ginny said quietly and the silence that settled over the group was suffocating.

There were certain priorities; food, medicine, comfort. They stayed in that place for a whole week, just waiting around that someone would come to rescue them soon. They ate whatever had been shoved along with them, not a lot. Certainly no more than could last another two days, by that first week's end. It was decided by all that Harry, Hermione, and Ron would be tied to the camp, safe and alive and unseen. Others went out to scout back in England and around Hogwarts.

Ernie's theory that they'd missed children did come to pass and by the end of the week they'd added thirty-eight more to their ranks, children that showed up dirt-stained and exhausted. Daphne and Astoria Greengrass- along with a sixth year Slytherin named Dominic Forester- were among those and Warrington vetted them and their better nature. They all agreed to the same memory sweeps and all came back as good people. Hermione hated to admit it but having Slytherins in their group was one of the only things that would keep them alive in the years to come.

Thirty-eight more mouths to feed, but thirty-eight more children alive. It was the worst catch-22 Hermione had yet to face.

Small convoys of two or three went out scouting, coming back with grim faces. On one hand, Hermione wished she could be among them, doing good, looking for signs it was okay to come back, good news for crying first-years. As it was though, there were things to keep herself busy at camp. Children looked up to her. She wasn't going to abuse such authority or let them down. She arranged sleeping maps, helped set up perimeter guards, rationed food, rationed medicine...Hermione felt as though she had a hand in everything, even if it was just a light touch here or there.

One other job she took up, although no one told her to but she felt it was necessary, was to write the lists of confirmed dead. In the first couple runs, the list was almost bearable if you looked at just the number of squiggles instead of the names. Yet when the parchment rolled onto the floor from the table she wrote them on, she just wanted to throw it across the room and cry herself to sleep. Too many gone. All the teachers at Hogwarts except Slughorn and Severus Snape. The entirety of the Order. Half of the Ministry of Magic. Entire handfuls of parents.

Hogwarts was ruins. Diagon Alley was just ashy remains. Hogsmeade was swarming with Death Eaters, drunk off victory and vicious in their acts. The Burrow was just...gone, a crater in the ground twenty miles where it once was. Grimmauld Place was discussed as a possible safe haven but it couldn't possibly fit everyone and it was either no one or everyone. Besides, it would only be a matter of time until that was found too, since safe-houses were being ransacked by the hour.

It was on the eight day hard truths had to be discussed and realized; there was no rescue, there was no one left but them anymore, and in the most heartbreaking of ways there wasn't a Wizarding England society anymore, at least nothing there for any of them. They couldn't go back. They were on their own...122 children (because really, that's what they were, even Hermione or the twins or Viktor) seemed to make up all that was left of the good of Wizarding England.

These children weren't soldiers and there was nothing to fight right now. There was only keeping them safe, keeping their magic undercover and everyone alive so that one day- even if it might be years and years from now- they could take back what was theirs.

"We have so many orphans," Warrington commented on that eight day, leaning back in his chair, "And that's not necessarily a bad thing-,"

"Wanna tell tell that to Melissa and Maggie O'Ryan? They're twelve and fourteen and they'd disagree with you! Or how about little Charlie? He's only seven; his parents died at His hands and his older brother died getting him here." Ron thundered, and a tiny bit of him was thinking of himself. Hermione recognized a small part of him was mourning the death of his own parents and older siblings.

"I'm not," Warrington's lips pressed into a thin line, "I only say it's good because all of those kids are now the rightful owners to their Gringotts accounts. We need to empty them, now. He's going to realize soon enough and put tracers on it; He might have already. But we need that money, all of it, if we're going to be able to save anyone. There's no use of having it there anymore...there is no world left for us."

Hermione wasn't sure if she would have thought of that.

When all was said and done after the lists were compared, there were over fifty children that were now the sole owners of hoards of savings, more than fifty children who would help them survive. Hermione had a feeling that she could get Griphook to help them, for the right price.

And so they did. Griphook wanted the Sword of Gryffindor, and after an hour or yelling back and forth about it, they agreed. He didn't work there any longer but Hermione held him to secrecy with their task and he wrote up contracts for 43 wills of the younger children, signing their rights over to those that would be going there themselves so that they could empty the vaults without having to risk young children.

Fred went for the Weasley's, now the oldest of their bloodline. Hermione signed her small stash away, unable to show her face there. Griphook drew up a different contract so that Fred could also be considered Harry's acting supervisor, since he was in a coma and unable to sign over his vault himself. Daphne, Seamus, Luna, Neville, Ernie, Morag were the others going that had vaults and confirmed deaths of both their parents.

Hermione watched them get ready to leave from her tent, anxiety wringing in the pit of her stomach.

"Come back, all of you." She whispered quietly, although no one could hear her.

It was 13 hours of worry clawing at the pit of her stomach before they returned. No one was dead, but that didn't mean that no one was injured. They'd done their task though, and from Hermione's undetectable extension bag spilled out millions of galleons worth onto the tent floor, having emptied all 54 vaults. As it turned out, they had a couple friends at Gringotts. Even still, it hadn't taken long for word to spread that there were survivors from the battle there.

Everyone was bleeding, but the worst was Seamus, whose entire left leg was angled the wrong way and bleeding profusely.

Hermione helped hold him down while Daphne, who apparently was skilled at healing magic, tried to repair the bones without Skelegrow. If that hurt, according to Harry, this must have been the worst pain imaginable from the way Seamus in his confused state thrashed around. Hermione was practically sitting on top of him to keep him down, not wanting to risk knocking him out because no one could be sure he didn't hit his head too.

She was sitting by him, her entire chest covered in his blood, when he came to, blinking into the musty light of the cabin.

"Shit, we made it out?" He whispered incredulously, shaking his head a little.

"Yeah, you nearly lost a leg. Daphne set it back, but it's going to take a while to heal." Hermione leaned back, sighing in relief. He seemed alright. This enough was the sort of miracles Hermione now looked forward to; small ones.

"Merlin, that blood mine?" He asked, spying the blood on Hermione's shirt.

"I don't have another..." She answered quietly, since they hadn't really had time to pack clothes in their leaving.

"I would give you mine, but it's just as bad." Seamus gave a quiet laugh, staring down at his ripped t-shirt, "Did we get it all?"

"You did. You got it all." She said and Seamus relaxed into his cot. He winced as his leg moved an inch.

"Hermione?" Someone called from the entrance to the cabin room. It was Ginny. She grinned brightly when she saw Seamus awake, "Oh, thank Merlin!"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Council's meeting." She said, "You coming? We'll fill you in later, Sea." She assured him and he gave a thumbs up.

"Yeah, I'm coming." Hermione said and squeezed Seamus' arm as she left, "I'm glad you're okay."

"What's the meeting about?" Seamus asked, pausing her as she left.

"What do you think? About what we do now."

The stunt at Gringotts had been worth it, but it put them in jeopardy. If people weren't looking for them before, they sure as hell were now. Their location in the forest of Dean had been compromised once before. It wasn't safe to stay here. They came to the cold realization that nowhere in England was safe anymore.

Although Viktor was with them, Germany was decidedly vetoed. There were a lot of Grindewald supporters and by extension those that didn't think Voldemort was the worst thing out there. France was also decided against; if Voldemort was going to go through and take places, Germany and France would be the next two on the list.

Italy was their next destination. Daphne knew a little about it since she'd gone steady with Blaise for a long time and his family was from there and she'd gone on a couple vacations down to the area. A couple other kids stepped forward but the most useful was a fifth-year- Hufflepuff boy whose family had vacationed in Italy every summer. He described fondly an old abandoned monastery he and a friend had found when they were twelve, a two hour walk outside from the nearest town. He recalled all the rooms, the nooks and crannies, the sloping hills around it. It was like throwing a stone to hit a target in the dark; there was the very real possibility that it would be inhabited by now or knocked down or something else awful. And if they didn't have this, what would they have? They would have nothing. Hermione wasn't one to pack her hope into one little bag often, but she did with this, and when they sent Oliver out to see if it was still there, she rocked back and forth and just hoped so hard it was going to save them. She would have been crushed had it not. But someone, somewhere, was on their side.

It sounded ideal. With enough of them being almost experienced spell casters, they could enchant it to be like Hogwarts. They could plant there too and exist within the Italian muggle community when they needed to. It was a place to survive for a long period of time; that was what everyone was thinking but no one dared say. Hermione didn't want to jinx it although each day that passed seemed like it added months onto their possible re-arrival to the Wizarding World. She could live and die in that monastery, she realized one late night with a frightening certainty. Who was to say they'd ever go home at all?

On the ninth day after the fall of Wizarding England, they packed up everything they owned and in groups of ten apparated to the monastery in question.

It was built sometime in the early 20th century, but for some reason since abandoned. As the entirety of the group stood in its presence, quiet and hurt and tired, there was a cool breeze that blew through the wind and almost felt like hope.

"I never believed in God," Dean whispered, helping Seamus hobble around, "But he might have just saved all of lives."

Hermione couldn't have agreed more.

That day was nearly three years ago.

No one could have expected that it would be this long. In those first months of that first year, they all just kept thinking if they just held out another week, maybe two, things would revert themselves. Wizards from other countries would come in, defeat Voldemort. They'd be saved. They wouldn't have to start from scratch.

And they kept waiting and nothing ever happened.

Slowly, they came to the conclusion that they were it and this strange place was their home now. The best they could do was continue to teach the children magic so that when the day came that someone went against Him these kids would be learned enough to fight back against him. Breaking the Ministry placed trace against magic under the age of 17 took the combined effort of the council a year and a half, but they finally managed it. That was like a breath of fresh air to everyone. There wasn't a single kid that should be unarmed ever if it should come up. Everyone should have the right to learn how to defend themselves with magic.

Harry woke up after three long months. He was angry about the whole situation, withdrawn and furious and in mourning for two weeks afterwards before he quietly showed up at the training hall and corrected Colin about how to cast a defensive spell.

The novelty that he was the Chosen One, along with the novelty of Hermione and Ron being some sort of heros, wore off in the kids minds around the seventh month. That was for the best; they worked as a council of elected individuals, no one more or less important than the other. It was made up of Oliver, Fred and George, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ernie, Daphne, and Warrington. Hermione would had never thought she would put her fate in the hands of Slytherins but she trusted Warrington and Daphne with her life in the way she trusted Ron or Harry. They were good people.

Life almost became normal in some ways. They built fences around their monastery and put heavy confusion charms at a perimeter ten yards away from every inch, making any muggle that wandered up here forget why they were coming and go back the way they came. They planted a garden- which Neville tended to- and managed to buy some cows and chickens with their money. The first thing they'd done was convert it all to Muggle euros. They didn't want any amount of Wizarding money to ping up and alert someone to their location. Every child had chores and work to do to help out around and Fred, George, Lee, and Alicia-before her demise- had gone around in those first years collecting up things from houses that were still standing in England so that everyone had beds and comfortable places to sleep.

But then, in other ways, it wasn't normal. While the younger children there might have fallen into the system of chores and survival and it had become all but routine, there were moments where Hermione wondered how any of them thought this was going to work out?

In the start, right after the turn of the first year when it was more or less said out loud they were on their own, there were a faction of people that were desperate to get out and incite change, or at least find remainders of their life. Neville, who Hermione had never thought of as angry or troubled, relentlessly sent himself out on these trips, each trip back from the outskirts of England leaving him more anxious and more battered. And, it wasn't until he got his leg blown up and returned in such a state that even Daphne, the most experienced medic couldn't fix it, that he stopped- but only because his leg didn't allow him to. He didn't accept it quietly, but had great screaming matches with Harry or Ron or Hermione out in the yard, declining the invitations to go to a 'group healing meeting' with the likes of Su, who no longer had her arm, or Lavender who thankfully wasn't a werewolf but lost her right eye, or countless others that were hindered from the war. And, there'd been a point when it was unsure how he was going to handle himself in this position where sometimes he couldn't force his mangled leg to move. Daphne could fix most anything, but she couldn't fix his leg and she couldn't fix his anger nor his depression.

That passed, after a long time, and only perhaps because Neville found other ways to keep himself busy...but Hermione wasn't ever sure that the disappointment in himself for feeling as though he failed to find parents or a reason to go back left him.

Then, there was the scouting trip where not one survived. Alicia led it, and she was the only body they even found, eyes wide and lifeless and skin cold. She was found just near England, and no one else ever showed back up, so they had to be assumed to be dead. It was after that trip that they decided it wasn't worth it. They were starting to survive here, and maybe, they just needed to lie low...even if it would be years. And it was.

In the three years, eight more kids they'd known from their previous life showed up seeking asylum. The most shocking being none other than Draco Malfoy himself. Ron punched him, which he probably deserved, and he was kept in their equivalent of a dungeon for a week before they could decide what to do with him or if they could even trust him. His parents were dead as of a month before he showed up. He'd failed Voldemort because he couldn't bring himself to kill a muggle family that had two babies. If he showed back up...he'd surely be killed.

There was no indication that he was there to kill them all. Viktor used some of the more unspeakable methods of gathering information that he knew, and although no one was proud of their actions, they had to keep the group at large safe. Draco, on some level, understood this and allowed everything they wanted of him through his lips.

It was slowly evident he was just as scared kid with no parents, no more of a threat than anyone else. That was one of the biggest scares they'd had to their safety. They were far enough out of the way that no one wandered up here, Italy hadn't been invaded yet, and the scouts had done their jobs of planting fake bodies of kids here and there and took to polyjuice potion any time they left the compound.

Slowly, it became a home.

Three years and Hermione in a lot of ways loved what they'd done and how they'd survived. It wasn't like her old house; with her parents downstairs making tea or reading the news with pictures on the wall, carpeted staircases, softly colored pastel walls, but it was still good. It was good because one day Hermione woke up and decided to make it good. These children deserved that. She made sure all the kids had rooms that, even though were shared, felt like their own and allowed children to paint the walls of the monastery in murals galore. She argued that the kids should receive some sort of monetary gift at the end of each year, however small, and a trip to the Italian Muggle world so that they could buy silly things instead of merely useful things. She wanted everyone to feel as though they were not just surviving but perhaps thriving.

She would be damned if any of these children, now hers and everyone else's, felt as though this was a prison to them.

She woke up alone in her room. Originally, she'd shared with Ginny. There were just too many people to allow anyone the privacy of their own room, and some of the younger children slept three or four in a singular space. They were discussing expanding, building new sleeping quarters since people were getting bigger, but that was only theories right now.

Ginny had moved in with Harry six months ago. In this post-modern world they lived in, post-civility, when people got together it wasn't childhood flings. There was something more concrete about the sort of way people found each other here. There weren't labeled as much either, you either were or you weren't. Casual encounters were more common (but people still gossiped; you couldn't take it all away) because after the end of the world certain 'virtues' just seemed so...antiquated. And if you didn't end up together that wasn't a big deal. The dramatic way that dating or love existed at Hogwarts was all but erased. There were, of course, bigger things to contend with than this girl taking this guy's crush or whatever. People grew up, people leaned on each other for support or for intimacy and that was the best way to describe it. Some people defined themselves in their own ways; Oliver and Daphne had gotten each other's initials tattooed on their ring fingers, the closest symbol to being married as they could get, for an example.

Harry had been rooming with Ron, but Ron ended up with Lavender, which came as a shock to no one. Even Hermione thought they worked well together. Lavender was much more mature after her werewolf attack, and while she wasn't one of them, she did have wolfish tendancies on occasion, such as liking her meat pretty much rare. Hermione recalled how jealous she'd been of them her sixth year and felt years and years away from that petty girl. She hadn't like Ron in that way in a very long time and she was truly happy for them.

Lavender had been rooming with Hannah who was now with Neville who had been sleeping with Lee who was with Morag who had been- well, the point was that everyone eventually got jumbled around and somehow Hermione had ended up with her own room.

She didn't mind not being attached to someone. She wasn't even looking for someone like the others, if she was being honest. Keeping all these kids alive was a life in itself. And while some considered her rooming situation to be lucky, Hermione hardly used the room for anything other than sleeping. In the mixup of people, she'd taken the smallest room she could as not to take away space from couples that were more deserving of it. It fit two twin beds, with a tiny space of walk between them (although the second bed was currently just a frame, the mattress unneeded) and a desk that Hermione worked at along with her trunk of personal items at the foot of her bed.

She woke up, brushed out her hair the best she could, and put on some clothes for the day. Dawn was just rising over the mountains and Hermione nodded to Viktor, who was on duty currently, and slashed some water on her face from the basin out front. She then cupped her hands in it and took a deep, long sip of it, nodding to herself as she thought about her tasks for the day. She was due to teach some advanced classes around noon. She had offered to help Daphne dry out some medicinal leaves at one point. She was on kitchen duty for dinner, and tonight they were making chili. Today was her shower day so she should probably get over to the baths now, if she wanted to be able to shower uninterrupted and enjoy warm water without guilt.

As she was turning to go take her bath, she heard she screech of the doors to their compound open and without turning, she knew who would be coming back.

Dean, Luna, Astoria...and Seamus. She worried about everyone when they went out on runs or scouting, of course, but this time more than usual, she thought about Seamus and if he were going to come back okay.

At Hogwarts, she couldn't remember speaking more to him than the occasional friendly and expected Gryffindor greeting or casual conversation. He was a figure in her class, but just a face and someone that seemed to have a penchant for blowing things up. She knew things about him, but only by words of others.

Even in those first couple years here, she'd respected his presence as another adult alive helping, and he did his part.

And then slowly, something changed between them. About two months ago he'd come back from a run and came up to her, plopping a shirt in her hands. She'd been so confused, looking at it and then back up to him.

"But I didn't ask for anything," She said, tilting her head, wondering if she'd confused her with someone else.

"I know it was like years ago, but that's payback, ya know?" He said, raising an eyebrow while grinning, "For me gettin' blood all over your singular shirt."

"Oh," Hermione shook her head, "You didn't need to...I wasn't mad at you." She'd almost forgotten the incident herself. His limp had cleared up and apart from a scar it was like it had never happened.

"Still, thought of ya when I saw this and well, I did feel bad 'bout it." He said. She looked down; it was a pink zip up that nearly was identical to the one she'd fled Hogwarts in. It had been so dirty, ripped, and bloodstained she'd had to throw it away within days of arriving here and getting a new set of clothes. Staring down at this, such a kind thought, and seeing the similarities...she almost felt like she was looking at her past self. That had been her favorite jumper in her youth.

"Thank you, really." She realized he was still looking at her, "I did miss it."

After that, she felt a little more drawn to him and maybe he to her. Jokes her way, those smiles or ways their eyes caught for small moments, how she was acutely aware of his presence whenever he was in a room.

And now, she couldn't stop but look back, relieved to see him unharmed, shucking off his bag of spoils. He knew where she was and slowly brought his gaze up to meet hers, burning and warm. She shivered. She wasn't sure what this was, exactly, but she had a pretty damn good idea where it was going.

The part of her that was denying it, denying him, snottily told Hermione that she only liked him because he was one of the last single guys around her age left. She honestly wasn't sure why. She'd acknowledged of late he was attractive, he was a nice guy, and quite funny. She knew she couldn't be the only girl that had noticed him. For the life of her, she couldn't imagine why he might also like her in return. She hardly made an effort to look nice; Lavender still asked for makeup whenever she went out and even Ginny put on eyeliner so she could still feel a little like her old self. Hermione didn't waste time with such things. She wore the same outfits day in and day out; rotating between her four pants and five shirts, with the occasional sweater or jacket thrown on on windy days.

She worried he was only interested in her because she was also one of the last unclaimed females, in her more quiet moments when she really reflected on it. She didn't want that to be true. A part of her wanted him to simply like her, although they hadn't come to any discussion of that yet.

A third part of her just encouraged her to enjoy this feeling, to embrace it and let things either happen or not happen. This was the most unusual of all voices.

With a burning sensation pooling at her stomach, she turned around sharply and hurried to the showers, before he could see the full on blush she was sporting. His level stare was something she couldn't get out of her head.

The rest of the progressed much as she had anticipated. Seamus was busy with his own jobs, and it wasn't often they crossed paths in their work. Hermione helped Daphne out first. She went to teach next, and left feeling as though the kids were getting some of what she was trying to teach them. She helped bake, enjoying this task more so than some other since it was all a very casual affair and Ginny happened to be on this shift two and they were both like giggling school-girls when they were together.

"Did you hear about George and Luna?" Ginny's eyes twinkled as she whispered, gossiping to Hermione. Hermione swung her head around.

"What? No way." Hermione shook her head, "I can't imagine those two."

"Yeah, Harry got an eyeful...they were out in woods right outside." She snickered into her hand, "It's all mum right now and all, we're the only ones that knows." She paused, "Fred likely knows too," She amended.

"Well, what do you think about it. It's your brother." Hermione pointed out.

"If he's happy, I am too." Ginny decided after a long moment. Hermione noticed a new scar on her arm, "Ah, hex." She said by way of explanation. Ginny oversaw the advanced dueling class, where they encouraged people to come and practice their fighting. Unspeakables obviously weren't used, but they didn't deny kids the right to use dangerous hexes, because they couldn't practice very well with ones that were minor and then expect to just know how to use the bigger ones if their lives came down to it.

"It was worse before," Ginny added, "Daphne's gotten real good at patching people up!" She laughed, and Hermione got the feeling she liked getting new scars.

"Who threw it?"

"Dennis Creevy, if you can believe it." Ginny said, and Hermione's eyebrows raised, "I know. He's gotten really good over the years. I had my reservations when Harry told me he might fit in well in this advanced class but it's been months since someone's gotten a mark on me."

"Do you think he'll be ready to go on runs soon? We can always use more people, I think that the current group deserves a break once and awhile." Hermione said.

"Not yet, but soon." Ginny agreed, "I'm going to bring it up to Warrington, have him come into the class and observe him, see what he thinks," She said, because Warrington was in charge of the scouting committee.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, and in her absent-mindedness leaned into the table, and the blood from the meat they were handling seeped into her shirt.

"Yuck," She said, frowning, "I'm going to go and get a new one, try to wash this out before it sets." Hermione announced and Ginny nodded.

"I'll tell Hannah." She agreed.

Hermione left the large kitchen, staring down at her shirt with a long sigh, walking the narrow halls on autopilot. She heard the footfalls of someone approaching the other way and looked up to see Seamus nearly where she was.

"Seamus," She said cordially, nodding his way, still slightly pre-occupied. She was completely taken off guard when he grabbed her arm as he passed, dragging her to the landing of one of the staircases they were near, pressing her on a wall near a stained-glass window.

She felt his lips on her neck, nipping and nuzzling and she couldn't stop the quiet moan that breathlessly ripped from her lips. His hands slid to her waist, keeping her in place as he pressed closer against her, slanting his lips over hers. She wasn't the prim and proper girl she'd once been and she, although frozen for a second, wasn't going to deny the warmth that spread through her whole body. She tangled her fingers in his hair, keening as his hands slipped down her leg, bringing it around him.

She could feel her heart pounding as his nails dug into the strip of skin between her jeans and her tshirt, pushing it up just slightly.

Then, as they both heard the sounds of talking as someone rounded the corner of the stairs, he pulled away, breathless as she was.

"Hermione," He said in response to the simple greeting she'd given him, but when he said her name it was rougher and was so much more than a simple greeting. It made her want more. Yet as casual as he'd been when he pushed her against that wall, he gave his nod and continued on his way leaving Hermione wondering what the hell just happened.

In her room, Hermione was dazed as she stripped off her shirt and threw a scornigfy at it. She found a spare, putting it on and thinking back to what happened. She hadn't been kissed like that since well...ever. She'd kissed Ron, back at the battle. It had been fumbling and awkward and not all to pleasureable, akin to kissing a brother. That's when they'd both realized nothing was ever going to happen between them...quite thankfully. Viktor had been her first kiss during 4th year, but that was chaste and sweet. Cormac had kissed her during her 6th year but that was far too much tongue and saliva and Hermione had felt as though she were drowning. Here, she hadn't been too occupied with boyfriends. She'd kissed Lee during spin the bottle about a year and a half ago, but that hardly counted.

She glanced out the window and saw his familiar sandy-blond head heading toward the gardens where Malfoy and Neville, along with a gaggle of children, were working the fields. She saw him greet Malfoy warmly, patting him on the back as he entered the area, and she hadn't realized they'd become such good friends.

And she wasn't sure how much she truly knew about him at all. She didn't know how much he knew about her either, though.

At dinner, she felt nervous and on-edge, waiting for him to appear. How would she react? How would he react? Did he want to discuss that mind-blowing kiss on the stairwell? Did they want to talk about how it would have progressed, had someone not come their way?

He entered with Fred, in deep discussion about something-likely about his run today- and hardly looked over at where Hermione sat. She tried not to be obvious she was curious about where he would sit. It brought her back to that first night, in the Forest of Dean, when she'd come back and her eyes had searched for him. But, after nothing much happened and it seemed maybe he liked Morag until she started going with Lee, she chalked it up to him just being a nice person and he would have checked up on anyone.

This? Well, she was pretty sure he wasn't going around, pressing himself against girls and snogging them senseless. Or, she hoped he wasn't, a part of her whispered.

He sat next to her, which wasn't unusual to anyone since all the older kids sat at one area and Dean was sitting across from Hermione and the seats next to him were taken already. He nodded to Hermione, but it was friendly, as though he hadn't shoved her against a wall and kissed the life out of her. She nodded back, determined to play just as casual as he did. Maybe it was a dare. Maybe she'd imagined the whole scenario. Maybe-

She felt his leg press against hers and stay there, and that's when she knew that this touch of skin- below prying eyes- was completely intentional. She stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the contact of it, forgetting the simple pleasure of being next to another person in a close way. Her mind flew back to just about an hour or so ago and damn it, but Hermione had never thought two legs pressed close to each other could be erotic, but here she was already hot and bothered.

Dinner progressed fine, his leg firmly next to hers and he talked on with Astoria and Dean like he wasn't doing anything, and Hermione talked to Ginny and Harry. She was thinking about Seamus and the situation in the back of her mind, though, despite her best efforts to dispel it.

She didn't think he was snubbing her to be cruel. She recognized they were both actually quite private people with their lives here. They maintained a role of professionalism and respectfulness at most times. And what would he say? Casually turn to her at the dinner table and say, 'oh yes, Hermione, by the way when I grabbed you and made out with you, do you remember that?' No, of course not. She wouldn't have expected Seamus to be the one whispering about his kisses or who he was banging, unlike some of the other boys, just as Hermione had kept her feelings about him to herself. Maybe he hasn't even said anything to Dean about her. Hermione liked it this way.

In a world where everything was so close together, everything was shared in some way, it was nice to have something just theirs and no one else's...not for someone to talk about, not for someone to spread around, not for anyone to know about their relationship-what it might be or might become- but just them.

Yes, Hermione didn't mind at all he wasn't being obvious about the kiss. It was almost more romantic to her that way, if she even bothered thinking about romances these days.

At the end of dinner, she felt his hand slid onto her leg, dangerously far up her thigh. She yelped in surprise, her knee hitting the underside of the table. Everyone in her vicinity looked at her and she saw Seamus stuffing his face with chili out of the corner of her eye to keep from choking on his laughter.

"You okay, Hermione?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, just, a bee or something must have stung me."

"Do you want my sister to look at it?" Astoria asked with wide eyes, and Ginny began to look around for the pesky offender.

"No, no. I'm sure I can handle that myself." Hermione said, hoping her face wasn't too red.

"You sure you can handle it by yourself?" She heard Seamus ask, the tone of all concern, but there was an undercut of an innuendo Hermione did not miss at all. No one else seemed to pick up on it though.

She smiled at him, nodding. "It was nothing much, just surprised me. I know how to deal with it." She said and Seamus' pupils seeped into the sea-green of his eyes, and he gave her a curt nod. Under the table, his fingers squeezed her leg, but she was prepared for something like that, so she just gave an innocent grin in return.

"It is that season," Ginny had begun to say, and Hermione gave an internal sigh of relief, feeling her cheeks cool from the occurrence, "Bug season, I mean. We should go around and charm the doors and windows and such."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "Wouldn't want anything getting into...well our bedrooms at night, you know." She saw Seamus swallow out of the corner of her eye. Two could play at that game. Hermione wasn't going to act like a blushing virgin around him, that was for sure. She took her napkin and set it on her lap and while she did, her hand might have brushed up against Seamus' legs, also dangerously close to a place that made him start to cough.

Only Dean gave him a curious look as he began to chug down his water. Seamus narrowed his eyes at Hermione, giving an impressed shake of his head.

"No kidding! I should have brought it up today. Eight new mosquito bites on me- count 'em!" Hannah broke it, showing her arm, "I didn't even think to ward the window today. I would like to keep it open, since we're in for a scalding summer."

"Extremely hot." Seamus agreed, tapping his fingers against the table, setting the glass back down with a punctuated 'clank', "The kind where no matter how much you take off, you just can't get cool enough."

This was an innuendo most got, but the girls at the table just snorted and ignored him, while Fred patted his back. Ginny cleared her throat, flipping her hair.

"This is why I prefer winter," Ginny agreed, "You can keep putting things on. There comes a certain point where you can't take anything more off in the summer- what's next, your skin?"

"Well, but there are ways to remedy that heat, Ginny." Hermione replied, "Cooling charms, ice cream, lots of ways." She put a smidgen of emphasises on her last bit.

"It's just annoying, that's all." Ginny conceded, "And ew, Seamus. Really." For a second, Hermione wondered if Ginny knew what was going on under the table, "I mean, I know all guys think about is sex, but yeah, we get it. Valid point though." Oh, she was still referring to the summer comment. Good.

"We should start saving more water. Put another bin out." Harry said, and the conversation lapsed into plans for the summer with no chance for more innuendos, although Hermione was on the lookout and she was sure Seamus was too. They finished up their meals, sparing each other a fiery glance before going on to finish up their after-dinner jobs. Hermione took watch for four hours, Seamus helped distribute the haul and prepare for the next one. She watched him in the main courtyard and made sure he knew she was keeping one eye on him. The way he looked at her made her shiver all over. Since he knew that she was watching him more than she was watching the forest outside, he made a point to take off his shirt long before he got to the laundry line.

That did make Hermione look away, biting her lip and feeling the warmth against her cheeks. As much as she enjoyed this game, some of it was still new to her and in this moment she had a thought...why all this effort? And was this really Hermione? But then, she looked down again and there was a way her heart thumped and she wasn't sure when that had begun, but she would be stupid to ignore something good that was coming her way.

After her shift, she found her feet bringing her to his room that he shared with Dean, although perhaps not for long since Dean and Su had been getting cozy lately. Either way, the boys were laughing about something when she entered.

"Ey! Hermione! Want some licorice?" Dean offered, seeing her first. From the way that Seamus turned around swiftly at her appearance, she could tell he hadn't expected her to be so bold. He seemed to not be breathing, his back rigid and his eyes snapped to her, unmoving. They both knew what this was.

"Sorry, but I need to take Seamus for a bit, Dean. Warrington had some questions about today's haul." She said. Seamus let out a long breath, relaxing and smirking to himself. His eyes seemed to say 'clever girl' when they came up to meet hers.

"Oh, of course." Seamus said a little eagerly, getting up.

"You can handle it? I was there too," Dean offered, sitting up on his bed.

"Ah, no. I'm sure Seamus can answer his questions. You were on two hauls in a row. Go to sleep." Hermione chuckled, seeing Dean half-asleep as it is. Dean's shoulders relaxed and he nodded to Seamus and let him leave without a second thought.

Hermione grabbed Seamus' hand and led him back toward her room.

"Why Hermione, this ain't where Warrington is...unless you're into a kinky threesome." He joked, eyes shining.

"Mhh, you wish?" She asked back and he shook his head.

"I'm a little protective. I like keeping my things to myself." He said.

"I wasn't aware I was yours." Hermione scoffed.

"I want you to be." He said with a certainty that made Hermione blush. She knew he wasn't being overly masculine in referring to her as an object, but in the sense that they'd be together. She'd be his like he'd be hers. She hadn't even thought as far as that yet but the more she thought about it the better the thought was.

She pulled him into her bedroom and shut the door, placing a silencing charm around the room. She pushing him to sit on her bed and straddled his lap, grabbing his face and kissing him as hard as he'd kissed her this afternoon. His fingers found the birth of skin between her jeans and her shirt, sliding up under it to grip her closer to him. Hermione's whole body hummed with pleasure and with a sense of relaxation at the same time, since it had been a long time since any thing like this had happened.

"Who knew Hermione Granger was so forward?" Seamus mumbled against her lips. She broke the kiss, pulling back.

"Who knew Seamus Finnigan felt up girls during dinner?" She asked back, but smiled so he knew she wasn't upset with that little stunt. If anything, it had really turned her on.

"Only for you, darlin'." He assured.

She felt his hands grip her shirt and pull it up, followed by unhooking her bra with ease. Hermione's fingers fumbled with his belt. They both discarded each other's clothing in record time and what Hermione had a feeling this was going to come to, this morning in the yard, came to fruition. And it was like seeing galaxies created before her eyes.

They didn't tell anyone. Seamus put his clothing back right and went back to his room, and Hermione fell asleep easier than she had in a long time. They kept it to themselves, a game forming between them. During meal times he'd sit within chatting distance of her and they'd see how far they could push the line before someone noticed (So far, no one had. Ginny once had asked her if she noticed that Seamus was particularly punchy one day, but she hadn't associated Hermione with it, nor picked up on Hermione's teases). Hermione figured that maybe they were used to Seamus and everyone found her so demure that anything she said was automatically taken in a non-sexual way. During the day, they'd steal each other away for heated make-out sessions or fast rutting in all those hidden nooks and crannies. If Hermione truly was the mother of this house, and more than one person had said as much, she figured it was now thoroughly christened, but that wasn't for children's eyes or ears. They were each other's release for now and neither pushed the other into becoming something more, saying something they didn't feel yet.

For now, having a friends-with-benefits was actually really great for Hermione, although she knew slowly it was inching toward something more everyday. And Merlin, she welcomed it.

Her favorite moments, though, were when they lay after it all, relishing the moments where neither of them were expected to be anywhere, sweating and panting and relaxing into each other's presence. They talked.

Some people talked about their past selves all the time; everyone pretty much knew Lavender's life story and Ginny rambled when she was nervous. Hermione didn't mind, everyone dealt with their loss in their own ways. Seamus never much talked about that in public, though. He wasn't withdrawn, he had merely found other things to talk about.

So when he talked about his family, his farm, his childhood memories...Hermione felt so infinitely special to get to know these things about him. He often told stories without prompting needed, his calloused hands gliding over her smooth skin and his voice low and even as he spilled everything. He explained it once to her, why he didn't tell the others. It was too painful for him to acknowledge the loss he'd felt, and he couldn't imagine speaking in front of everyone about it. Yet with Hermione, he felt safe...comforted. He felt as though he could tear up a little when he talked about how his mother baked the best apple pies or how his father taught him how to work on cars.

Hermione had felt similarly about talking about her life, but until Seamus and his way of speaking of it, she hadn't found a way to put it into words. She also found herself confiding with him all those memories that burned in a way that hurt, but nearly felt good.

They also shared tidbits about each other that were no longer applicable to the world, things that weren't so touchy but were rarely brought up because the way they lived was so different now, like their favorite muggle movies, where they liked to go out to eat, or their favorite ice-cream flavors. Seamus made Hermione laugh so hard sometimes that she had to cover her mouth unless she wanted to be caught with him naked in a broom closet.

She had thought she'd been in love with Ron, but that ended. She had thought even maybe at one point she loved Viktor, back when she had her first kiss. All of that faded away and she had realized somewhere between that she hadn't felt love, not until now.

She wondered if this is what love actually felt like.

At night while he slept, she would ghost her fingers over his back, connecting his freckles like constellations and whisper it soundlessly under her breath, trying to imagine what it would sound like to say it to him; I love you, I love you, I love you.


	2. Purgatorio

One day she gathered the courage to ask the question she'd been pondering since the start of all this: Why her?

"Merlin, Hermione," Seamus said, biting his lip, "I mean, you're brilliant, witty, drop-dead gorgeous-,"

"Be real, Sea."

"I am!" Seamus said, looking offended that Hermione didn't believe him, "But when I think back to it, what started it...well, what drew you to me?"

"That you took notice, I suppose." Hermione shrugged awkwardly, "There's so much more to you now but I mean, we didn't ever really interact at Hogwarts..."

"No, I guess we didn't." Seamus agreed, as though he was just realizing it now. He bit his lip cautiously, "I'm going to sound totally ridiculous here, and let me just preface by saying my mum was a huge Pride and Prejudice fan and I heard it in the background enough that I likely know the whole script, I'm not just a guy that really likes it, but I think of a quote or something. That I was already in the middle before I had realized it had began, or whatever." He said, looking down to hide his blush that grew on his cheeks. Hermione's heart thudded.

"That's strangely romantic." Hermione mumbled, knitting her fingers into his.

"I dunno. I just woke up one day and saw you laughing with Hannah and Su and I thought 'damn, some guy will be lucky to get her one day' and before I knew it I starting wondering if maybe it could just be me. I guess I don't think about it much, don't want to analyze it. Why does anyone really get together? I'm just glad we did." He said and Hermione considered his words.

"It's a good enough answer for me." She declared. And they left it at that.

Another day, she asked when he became such good friends with Draco.

"It just happened," Seamus scoffed, "He's not a bad bloke, you know. Still a little arrogant, but really creative, really smart." Seamus shrugged, "I think you'd actually like him."

That's how Draco became the first person to find out about Seamus and Hermione's tryst, when Seamus had to find an explanation to why he was so intent with Hermione getting to know Draco. Either way, Hermione had a feeling Draco already half-knew. He seemed to know quite a lot more about what went on this camp, but he wasn't one to gossip.

And he wasn't a bad guy...once Hermione threw away everything she'd known about him, he was indeed, enjoyable. He could match her wit and he was a hard worker and didn't expect people to like him, even after a year of being here. He would wait until they were ready.

Draco was often working in the gardens when he wasn't out hunting and Hermione liked the feeling of soil on her hands and soon they started requesting their shifts together. For Hermione, it was good to have friends while she worked, not someone she constantly had to direct or correct. They could both finish their work while enjoying the company of someone else.

So perhaps she shouldn't have been quite so surprised when Ginny came up to her about six months into her and Seamus being together and got it all wrong.

"Hermione, I want to talk to you about something." She said with a smile, nudging up to Hermione while she went over the classlists in the dining hall.

"Sure, what is it?" Hermione was glad to have a break from it. Assigning about 100 kids to different courses and making sure no one overlapped was difficult; she didn't envy McGonagall's old job of overseeing it at Hogwarts. Thinking of McGonagall, or any other teacher for that matter, no longer felt like an arrow through her heart, but more like a fond memory.

"So...you and Draco?"

"Me and Draco...what?" Hermione said, scrutinizing Ginny. She figured Ginny had left out part of her question, possibly about the fact that Hermione had requested to go hunting with him soon. Draco had been showing her the basics, along with Seamus, in the main courtyards when they were on guard duty and she was itching to leave the base. She hadn't since she arrived, nor had Ron or Harry. Staying 'ghosts' was far too important, but Hermione was getting some serious cabin fever.

But then she saw Ginny's eyebrows move suggestively and Hermione nearly spat up her drink.

"Oh! Merlin, no, not at all!" Hermione was quick to set her straight. She had thought that her and Draco were...Hermione almost shuddered.

"Hermione," Ginny pouted, leaning across the table, "You can tell me, I swear!"

Hermione realized in this moment that Ginny truly thought that her and Draco were together behind everyone's backs and she wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry.

"There's nothing to tell. We're friends. Just friends." Hermione tried to put as much emphasis on as she could muster.

"Look, I get it. It's Draco...we know what he was like before. Even Harry agrees he's an one of us now, and I mean, everyone's pretty much expecting you two to move into a room together soon anyway and I just thought as your best friend I should be the first to know." She said, almost angry at Hermione.

"Oh, gosh," Hermione rubbed her temples, "Ginny, I don't know how to convince you of this, but me and Draco aren't 'together'. I don't know where everyone's drawing these conclusions from."

"What conclusions?" Seamus said, coming by to drop off Warrington's requests for searchers, more things to fit into the children's schedules.

"You've seen it, haven't you?" Ginny said, "About Draco and Hermione."

Seamus gave a laugh that sounded like he was dying, and Hermione wanted to punch him right there.

"Well, I must be left out of the gossip then, because that would be news to me!" He said, almost crying, holding it back as he shook his head at Hermione. He could hardly get the words out though his chuckles. He spied Draco passing the door and called to him.

"Yeah?"

"Draco, can you please tell Ginny me and you aren't banging behind everyone's backs? Apparently the entire group things we're a 'thing'." Hermione said dryly and Draco looked between Seamus and Hermione and a grin split across his face.

"Sorry, She-Weasley, Hermione and I are only getting it on in my dreams. But let me tell you, in my dreams, she's really kink-ow!" He cut off as Hermione punching him in the gut.

Ginny's whole face fell.

"So it's not true?"

"You look like someone just died, Gin." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, I've just...I wanted to to be with someone, Hermione. You know, be happy."

"I am happy." Hermione informed her, and she felt Seamus tense for a moment behind her, "When I'm ready for something...it will come." She said. Her and Seamus quite liked no one knowing they were together, no one butting into their business like Ginny tried to do with her and Draco's non-existent relationship, no one bothering them to bunk up together or anything, no one expecting anything of them at all. They were each other's favorite and most precious secrets.

After that, Hermione still noticed Ginny and others trying to covertly watch her and Draco's interactions, as though they expected to catch them in some scandalous act and they could pop out and say 'I told you so!'.

Four years ago, Hermione would have never dared people would expect her and Malfoy to be dating. But now, it wasn't so strange of an idea, if she weren't with Seamus, of course. That very fact made life feel like an alternate world, something like her life used to be, but just bent and manipulated until it was like the backwards of everything she thought she knew.

That's how this life often felt to Hermione; a mirror world. It was like they all stepped through a mirror all those nights ago, breaking it behind them on their way back, never to be able to return to. This world disoriented what people used to consider truth and flipped reason on its head. There was no way that a group of them should have been able to survive so long like this, just like there should have been no way Voldemort should have been able to win. Yet both things happened. Now here they were, on the other side of a mirror.

And if they had a chance to go back? If Hermione could look at herself that was four years ago in that mirror, would she wave to her? Would she envy her other self, or feel sorry for her? That Hermione had been weak and would have never reached her potential like she felt she did now.

No, Hermione couldn't imagine herself even wanting to be that child that would peer back at her on the opposite side, with her round face and innocent eyes.

And after four years, now, Hermione was restless. She used to like to think she was a good girl, but while reminiscing upon her and her friend's midnight adventures at Hogwarts and and counting all the rules she broke in her head, she chuckled and realized that might not be so. Therefore, it wasn't all to impossible to believe that despite her own logical conscience warning her against it, Hermione broke a rule.

The scouts reported that Voldemort still reigned with no sign of stopping, but after four years of the end beginning, no one was looking for those surviving Hogwarts kids anymore. No one thought they were alive.

So that's why Hermione, terribly frustrated at the walls surrounding her at all times, left the camp. She snuck out through the back like a bandit in the night, needing just a moment alone in the woods. Besides, no one had been in these backwoods but their own people. This area was just as safe as inside, she figured.

Zipping up her soft brown jacket, she marveled at the trees and the dirt and the aroma of earth around her. She was so used to the damp smell of the camp that the smell of the forest on the coming breeze felt like nirvana. It reminded her of being a child and going through the woods near her house and saddened her in ways she hadn't anticipated. It seemed like years since she'd given thought to her parents.

She picked a bouquet of flowers and found two moss covered stones and lay the flowers evenly in front of them. She didn't know if her parents were dead or alive, they didn't know if she was dead or alive. This was a funeral for them, for herself, and for the person she wasn't anymore. She hadn't a chance to do this, not with holding true funerals for the people they knew for sure was dead. She hadn't wanted to do this, a small part of her, but being out here…in the forest…she felt as though her parents were the last palpable tie to her old life. She needed to let them go.

She stood, and spotted a small creek through some bushes. Pushing herself through carefully, she bent down to sip straight from the cool stream that giggled as it ran over rocks.

A shot rang out through the forest. A second later, Hermione registered a bone-crushing sort of pain. Worse than when she was tortured at Malfoy Manor, and it took another second for her brain to look to where the pain was coming from, and her fingers came back sticky and red.

She couldn't move her left arm. The entire area of her coat near her left shoulder was drenched in blood, cloying and metallic when she breathed in. Shakily, she tried to push off her jacket but the pain was too much. Her knees buckled out from under her and she felt the dew of the grass graze her cheek. All she could do was lay here.

A small part of her was alarm bells ringing; no one knew she'd snuck out, she could die here. But even that thought was too heavy to linger on for long, and she felt her gaze droop like curtains slowly lowering on a stage.

"Shit!" The exclamation came from above her and she saw a younger face above her, a gun across his back. His hands were cold on her cheek as he shook her head, "Hermione, goddamit, stay with me."

"Dominic, did you get the-Hermione!"

Draco appeared in Hermione's line of sight, a gun slung across his back too, with a belt of rabbits hanging from his front. His eyes were terrified and she couldn't find words.

"I thought she was a deer! It was dark, she was at the stream drinking, and wearing that jacket!" Dominic sounded hysterical, "Oh my god, I've killed Hermione Granger. I've killed Harry Potter's best friend. He's going to kill me."

"Not if we can help it. Hermione, hey, we're going to get you back, okay?" Draco said, staring into her eyes and Hermione wanted to answer. She wanted to nod or blink or show Draco she understood. Red filled her vision and the last thing she registered was Draco picking up her- one hand on her back and one under her limp legs- and carrying her back like she was already dead.

When Hermione opened her eyes again, and thank god because that meant she hadn't died, everything still really hurt. She was in her room and she was just in her bra. Her shoulder was wrapped in fluffy white gauze and she could almost feel people seeing her awaken and sighing with relief. She lifted her head a millimeter to see Ginny, Draco, Harry, Ron…and Seamus, all crowded in her room. Seeing Seamus settled her and she fell back and let herself settled back into the darkness. She was sure she needed the rest.

The second time she woke up, she felt much more with it. She still aches all over, and it was dark outside. There was a vase of flowers by her bed, ones she didn't recall being there the last time. She was vaguely aware of a warm solidity at her back, but she noticed Ginny first. She was so happy to see her friend, although Ginny looked like she hadn't slept in days.

"Gin…"

"Hermione?" Ginny lifted her head. She was sitting on the empty bed opposite Hermione, where she used to sleep, "You're awake." Ginny wiped away a few tears at the edges of her eyes.

"How long have I been asleep?" Hermione asked.

"It's been three weeks. We weren't even sure…" Ginny hiccupped, "…sure…you'd wake up."

Hermione frowned, trying to move her left arm but it still smarted so she thought better of it.

"Dominic shot me." She recalled, "Accidentally." She added for good measure, because she didn't think that kid had a malicious bone in his body.

"Yes." Ginny nodded, "He feels awful, you know. He's been in here everyday. He was hunting…thought you were a deer. God, what the hell, Hermione? What were you doing outside the wall?"

"I was feel trapped." Hermione felt small and stupid, "And you guys have all decided me and Ron and Harry are just supposed to stay within this area for the rest of our lives? I don't regret it." Hermione decided.

"You…fuck, you nearly died, Hermione. Don't you understand? I was so worried!" Ginny looked angrier at Hermione than she'd ever seen her, "There's a reason that we don't want you to leave."

"Getting shot was a stupid mistake. That won't happen again." Hermione said, and added in her mind, if she ever got the chance to leave again.

She tried to shift, but registered that the warmth behind her emanated from a sturdy body. She recognized the calloused hands anywhere, and turned around a smidgen to see Seamus' sleeping figure behind hers. He looked worse than Ginny.

She turned around, wondering if everyone knew now.

"He hasn't left your side except to eat. He sleeps there…every night." Ginny was pensive, "When Draco brought you back, Merlin, we all thought he was carrying your corpse. Seamus took you in his arms, and I just thought…well, you were breathing and when we managed to get the story out of them, we had to pull Seamus off Dominic. I thought he was going to kill the kid. I mean, for a second, I just thought he was with us; I had half a mind to strangle Dominic too, you see. We were all mad that Dominic made such a bone-headed mistake and we were terrified it was too late. Draco was crying about it, Merlin's beard. But then the way he didn't leave you, the way he looked so lost without you…" Ginny cupped her hands over her face, shaking her head. When she managed to find words, they were kind, "How long?"

"Nearly a year." Hermione said, gripping his fingers in her own, relaxing into him.

"Were you going to tell anyone, ever?" Ginny seemed far past upset, now just a little surprised. Maybe she was just glad that Hermione was alive.

"I don't know. It was nice just being, without planning every second of our future." Hermione said honestly. Ginny leaned back against the wall, "Who else knows?" Hermione questioned.

"I'm not sure."Ginny said honestly, "I'm perceptive and all. And I think everyone else was just so worried about you that they didn't even…I'm really the only one that spends nights near you, or wanted to anyway. So me, and maybe Harry. I feel like he sees it all too. I'm guessing Draco knows, he didn't seem surprised at Seamus' reactions. Maybe Hannah?"

"If you'd be so kind, I think we'd still rather be quiet about it." Seamus' voice spooked Hermione. She jumped a little, but felt his arms tightened around her to comfort her.

"If that's what you want." Ginny agreed, standing, "I think I should tell everyone that you're up." She said. She reached the threshold, and looked back, smirking, "You and Seamus Finnigan…nothing I would have ever predicted." She sounded so surprised but looked happy for her, for them.

When she was gone, she turned around to Seamus.

No words seemed worthy enough; nothing to express her gratitude for him caring for her, or the loyalty he showed while she was healing. It didn't seem enough to show him that what he had done for her proved more than anyone else had ever done for her in the past. His actions told her how he felt so plainly that replying with just those three little words, eight letters, seemed to pale in comparison. But she didn't have anything else at the moment, so she said it, and it was the truth.

"I love you." She murmured, dragging him close to her. She winced as her arm bent and realized how far she still had to come.

Seamus kissed her forehead, nodding.

"There's a meeting soon. I know you'll find out anyway, one way or another. If...you're up to it, that is."

Hermione chuckled, "Of course I am! Three whole weeks, damn. I must have missed like a lifetime of things happening." She said. Seamus looked doubtful, so to prove it she sat up. Her head swam for a second, but she pushed it away. She then swung her legs over the side of her bed, realizing she wasn't dressed properly for a meeting. She wasn't really dressed much at all.

"So, what's happened?" She asked, standing up and going to her wardrobe.

Seamus was watching her like a hawk, his eyes following her every move. "We finished building the smoke house. By winter we'll be good, and have meat the full year. Can you imagine? We technically passed the mark for September first. On a run, Cassius found some wands but the kids are having trouble controlling them. They weren't picked, you know?" Seamus ran a hand through his hair.

Hermione looked to her desk, pleased to see nothing had been touched. One of their main problems was that there was a small pocket of kids that had come under the age of 11, meaning they hadn't a chance to get their own wands yet. And then there was the kids that had lost their wands in the war, they'd been surviving off of using found wands or borrowing friends, but that wasn't even sustainable long term. At first, it was manageable because they were all very young. But now, after four years? Well, there was three kids that had turned 13 this year- the first group to go without wands, four to turn 12, and by her remembrance two to turn 11, if September 1st had indeed passed. There were still 15 more that would be turning 11 within the next five years, depending how long this would continue on.

She'd found an old text about the art of wandmaking, or more so Seamus had found it on a run, but it was all in ancient ruins and it was incredibly dense. She'd been translating it before she'd been shot, and she really needed to get back to that. She had a couple kids in mind that she thought might be fit to be wandmakers, but it was all useless unless she could translate the heavy tome.

"I'll have to get back to that." She repeated out loud, frowning.

"Don't tax yourself." Seamus sounded resigned, because he knew she was going to throw herself back into it, "We don't need wands right this moment."

So far, they'd been fortunate enough for only two of their members to have their wands broken on runs. That was lucky. They wouldn't be lucky forever and she knew Cormac and Emily were frustrated to have to borrow wands or use ones of owners who had been killed and were finicky with their requests.

"Go on?" Hermione said, turning around to him as she pulled out a sweater and pair of pants to put on. She turned to the mirror situated on her dresser to see how she looked- she knew she had to run a comb through her hair, or attempt it. She was unprepared to see the gauze around her shoulders, though. Seamus chatted on about the latest gossip around the camp and achievements of students and community wins as Hermione unraveled it. By the time he noticed, it was all the way off, on the ground.

She leaned in, touching the place near her collar bone where the bullet had exited this way. She couldn't see the entrance wound on her back shoulder blade, but when she flexed, she felt it. A perfect circle of angry red, and it stung when she touched it.

"Hermione," Seamus sighed, picking up the gauze, "We don't need you going and getting a damn infection." He was angry, but not with her. She turned, holding out her arm so he could re-wrap it. She was silent as he tried to figure out his words.

"I almost lost you." He whispered, "I know that's how this life is; I feel as though this camp is a revolving door sometimes. We find one person, someone else dies. That's how life is now, but goddamit, I can't lose you. I swore to Merlin when Draco carried you in I thought you were dead. I know we all did, but no one had the thoughts I did, I'm sure. I was thinking, wondering, how I could do any of this without you? I've come to rely on you so much, which some might call stupid. I don't care. I want to need you." He said.

"I understand." Hermione whispered, for she did. Her pull to him was now like a moth to a flame. He was undeniable. They were like two magnets. They were tied together in this life now, in such a quiet way, and while Hermione had always known that if one guy didn't work out there would always be another but she couldn't imagine anyone else but him. There was no after Seamus, only with or without him, "Now you know how I feel everytime you go on a run," She said, poking his stomach, "There's a chance I have to contend with that you might not come back."

"Well," Seamus chuckled darkly, as though only realizing it for the first time, "Shit, eh? We've done something incredibly dumb, gone and fallen in love."

"The dumbest." Hermione agreed, but couldn't help but smile. He heard people chatting as they walked down the hall. He motioned to the door and Hermione threw on her clothes and followed him, along with the moving crowd, into the meeting room. Everyone hugged her and greeted her as she entered.

She didn't do much talking or arguing, instead, she listened. She was already feeling a little dizzy with the whole day, but she was determined to catch up. This meeting was to show the preliminary plans of houses outside the complex. They'd discussed it times before- the first years were now fifth years and people were only going to get older. The convent would turn more and more into a school and less and less of a dorm setting. They would start within the next couple weeks with the first house to be up by mid spring.

There was going to be a more in depth meeting later, but this was just to discuss the chances that would have to be made in theory, to bring up anything that would need rumination before discussion, such as how should it be decided who gets these houses first? Seniority? A lottery? The meeting was penned for two days from now, and Hermione hoped by then she'd feel better enough to participate. She had things to say; Hermione always had opinions to announce.

After the meeting, she sat out on the steps of the convent, looking at the stars. She'd been inside far too long.

Someone sat by her, and she half expected it to be Seamus or Draco or Ginny. Instead it was Dean, who she spoke to enough, but slowly he and Seamus had drifted from each other as friends. It was nothing about either of them, it was just growing up.

"Sometimes I think we're are bloody mad," Dean said quietly, "Building houses here. It makes it feel real for once. Like this is it, we're going to live here. Oliver and Daphne get that first house, you know why? Probably not, you've been asleep for three weeks." He looked at her to confirm and Hermione just nodded in agreement. Seamus apparently hadn't told her something important, something that everyone else seemed to know, "She's pregnant. A bloody kid. Bringing it into this world? Merlin."

"Oh," Was all Hermione could muster. She'd wanted kids but since that night that Hogwarts fell years ago she realized it hadn't really crossed her mind. A lot of the time she felt like a mother enough to all the kids here.

"Yeah. It was one thing to have kids here that are pretty young, came in around six, but they were still out there before. It's like we're trying to be something we're not, bringing in kids who will grow up and all they'll ever know is this...how is that...I just..." Dean made a motion with his hands. Hermione nodded quietly.

"Yes, how will we become? Will I die here? Will we create a town ourselves, re-create Hogwarts in these walls?" Hermione whispered and Dean looked relieved. She knew what he was trying to say because it was the same thoughts running through her head too.

"This child means we're accepting all of this. We're not just trying to live here for now, have an okay life, we're settling down. That's scary as hell." He admitted, and Hermione couldn't disagree.

"There's that little voice on my shoulder, one telling me life is worth it. That maybe I shouldn't be so cynical. But then there's also that cold hand, the hand that's Padma's or Romilda asking why I get to stay and they didn't."

"Survivor's guilt is a helluva thing." Hermione gave a low whistle, "And it's nothing any of us haven't felt before." She assured, looking him in the eye.

"It still makes me stop and question it all." Dean murmured, giving a long sigh, "Su wants kids. She's made that pretty clear. I just don't know if I can give into that yet." He fixed Hermione with a long stare, "From your reaction, I'm going to guess you and Seamus haven't discussed that yet either? Oh, don't look so shocked- we may not be as close as we used to be, but I still know him better than almost anyone- sans you- and it's not too hard to see."

"No," Hermione agreed once she'd gotten over her initial shock, "We haven't. What happened to you two?"

"Same thing that happens to most friends. You grow up..." He whispered softly, "Same thing that happened to you and Ron or you and Harry." He stood, brushing the dirt off his pants, "I'm not going to tell anyone. Dunno why it's such a secret, but I'm not cruel." He chuckled, "Night, Hermione."

"Night," Hermione replied, dazed.

She wandered back into her room, feeling woozy and overtaxed, and found Seamus waiting up for her. He'd pushed the two beds together and somehow procured bedding to fit over the now doubled-sized bed.

"Well this looks rather..." Hermione couldn't find the right words, but Seamus understood.

"I figure it's about time, ya know? Dean's off with Su, but she's still with her roommate and I can tell that he's gettin' tired of broom closets or sharing a bed with her and another person in the room. And I think he might know about us-,"

"Oh, he knows." Hermione chuckled, interrupting him, and Seamus didn't seem too shocked by it at all.

"Right, and so why not?" He asked, looking a little red, a little unsure of himself. Hermione leaned down and kissed his forehead, nodding to calm him. His shoulders relaxed and he slumped down onto one half of the newly formed bed.

"So, are we telling people now? It might be obvious." She said, curling up beside him. Seamus shrugged, unconcerned.

"If they ask, or figure it out, I guess there's no reason to deny it. I just don't think we have to be explicit about it. Sides, your bedroom is all the way in like the middle of nowhere in this damn place. We might not have anyone noticing at all." He said with a tone of mirth.

"I like my room, separated from everyone. Why do you think I picked it in the first place?" Hermione defended it teasingly.

Seamus rolled on his stomach. "I'm guessing you've heard the gossip 'bout Daphne." He said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Pregnant." Hermione repeated, still the idea a bit surreal. He looked over to her, considering something deeply.

"We've never talked about...that." He said carefully, "I know we're confident in our spell-casting to prevent that but maybe we should have. Nothin' is 100 percent and now it's been brought to light."

"I think they were trying," Hermione said, but felt a little unsettled this hadn't been brought up between them. They'd been sleeping together long enough for at least the barest of menchions of it, but with everyone else here...it had always just seemed so far away.

"Nevermind that, you know what I mean." Seamus said, "Do you want kids?" Hermione tried to read his tone. She couldn't pick a damn thing from his question, and that unsettled her. She had a moment where she was terrified she'd say something wrong, but then she realized that was silly since this was Seamus and he understood and loved her more passionately than she thought two people could love. She'd never really believed in soulmates but Seamus made her almost want to reconsider.

"I think yes...one day." She said, "Or I did, before this. I hadn't thought about it until tonight, to be honest. I don't think I'd be ready now, not even if we were in a world where things were normal. It might be normal for witches to have children right out of Hogwarts, but being muggle-born, I just couldn't let that happen. Twenty-five always seemed like a reasonable age for children." She said in one big rush, "Do you? If you don't, I won't hate you and-,"

"I guess so." Seamus seemed a little unsure, "I can't say I thought about it all too much either. Some guys do. I just don't. I hadn't, I guess I should say. But with you? Yeah, I'd be happy to have some with you." He agreed, "And I think 25 is a good age. It gives us time for things to settle...how they may."

"What do you mean?" Hermione questioned.

"Well, you're nearly 23 now. That gives us two more years to see if this whole thing," He waved his hands to indicate their situation, "Is going to resolve itself or if maybe accepting and moving on with our lives here wouldn't be bad thing." He saw Hermione's frown, "I know some people don't want us to do that. I get it, hell I get it. But at what point do we start living again? Seven years is a good time to accept it by then. To move forward, not think about our lives before anymore. To realize that maybe this is just how life is now."

Hermione thought about his words. In truth, it terrified her a little. A small part of her kept the hope someone would come still and they could go back to their lives before. But Seamus was right. She knew that if she held onto that hope her whole life, she'd be constantly reminiscing about what sorts of things she didn't have and not living in this moment. She'd seen from all she'd helped to build that it was possible to have a truly good thing here. It could be better, it could be great.

"Just think, maybe one day we'll have our own school here, just as ancient and renown as Hogwarts." Seamus murmured quietly, eyes full of wonder. The idea excited him a bit. In Hermione's mind, she wondered if he'd already begun to accept this life as reality. She wished she could let things go as easily as he did.

She let out a short laugh, "That's terrifying to think about. I mean, in lot of ways we do know more than the founders, we know more spells and tricks that didn't exist back then. But then again, in many ways, we're so behind them. We have so few of us to begin with and we can't even make our own wands yet. There was a lot of magic already existing for them that we didn't have. Plus, they were so much older and wiser and stronger than we were that-,"

"Rubbish." Seamus spat, "Rubbish to think we can't do what they did. There were only four of them, and sure, they were powerful but have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately, Granger? Honestly woman, you could probably beat any of them in a duel. And Harry! Have you ever met someone so in tune with dark magic that hasn't been seduced by it? Even Salazar couldn't say that. Ron, he's the best strategizer we have, he's already guessed more than one move by His followers that have saved our people. And we have Neville, who without him, we wouldn't have lasted past that first year, we would have all starved to death. Daphne can stitch you back up without a scar left on your body, Ginny knows more hexes than a textbook ever could, we have people so versed within Muggle culture that the founders sure as hell didn't have...Merlin, I could go on all night about how every person here has brought something to us. There were four of them. There's 100 of us. Somehow, I think we'll do okay." Seamus said, squeezing her hand.

The first houses were built and it timed up, coincidentally, with the five-year anniversary of leaving Hogwarts. The houses were just the basics right now, they had decided the main focus wasn't to isolate people and start a community, necessarily, but to make sure that everyone had ample room to grow. The goal was that every room had as a maximum two people sharing, since there were quite a few rooms in the monastery that were housing three or four as it were. That was fine and dandy when they were first years, but now they were nearly 6th years and that made things complicated. So, twelve houses were penned for construction to combat this. They would be nothing more special than living in the monastery, since not everyone could live in them. It would be a simple wooden structure with two rooms that had two occupants in each with a shared bathroom and living room between the four. It was decided to continue to keep the main source of food in the dining halls. As much as some people were eager to settle, not everyone was and to start providing kitchen…? Well, Hermione figured that it was smart to take this a singular step at a time.

You could throw your name into the lottery to sleeping in one of those houses. It was fair to everyone, you just had to sign up in groups of two. Seamus and Hermione decided there wasn't much a need and neither necessarily liked the idea of what the houses might mean, not right now at least. They let other eager pairs sign up.

The fifth-year anniversary was a grand party, filled with wine that Michael Corner had perfected in distilling (they were in Italy, after all) and fancy cheese and cake. It was five years longer than most had thought they'd live, and Hermione agreed like everyone else it was a time to celebrate.

She took a guard watch, voluntarily, because she liked to watch the stars rise over the inky blackness and cover them all like a blanket. The party was a little rowdy for her tastes. She hadn't enjoyed the punchiness of teenage parties when she was one, she wasn't too much more of a fan of them now. She just sincerely hoped everyone remembered the contraceptive spells they'd been taught. Daphne and Oliver were one thing, a bunch of one-night-stand pregnancies? She shuddered.

"Coming up!" A voice called down, so she didn't accidently hex them when the person startled her, and she turned to see two male figures scurrying up the ladder.

"Cheers," Ron said, grinning, handing her a glass of wine. How he'd managed to climb up here with two wine glasses was beyond her. Harry was right at his heels.

It felt like forever since they'd talked, the three of them. In reality, it probably was. They all had jobs to do in this world and they didn't often oversect, unless perhaps they were in a council meeting.

"What are you two doing?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, we saw you here all by your lonesome and," Ron shrugged, a tinge of red panting his cheeks although she suspected it was from the wine, "Harry had the idea, mostly."

"To five years." He said, raising his glass, leaning over the edge of the perimeter with a long sigh, "Didn't ever think we'd be here." He said quietly, nearly to himself.

"What? Standing on a platform in the Italian countryside?" Ron snorted.

"Alive." He answered simply.

Hermione nodded, patting his back. She agreed.

She had thought the three of them were the key; they were unstoppable, the perfect force. She thought it was something about their talents that would leave them untouchable. She thought they'd kill Voldemort even if it meant dying too. That was a loss she had been willing to part with.

And here they were, so far from everywhere she thought their paths would take them.

"Thank Godric for that…" Ron said quietly. Out of the three of them, Hermione got the idea he was the least pleased with fighting 'till death idea. He would have done it, but he was much happier to be here. Hermione wasn't arguing, she was happy to be alive in this sort of sideways life, if maybe it meant going back one day. Or not, she was still wrestling with that one.

"Five years. I think we were so stupid, you know?" Harry began to speak. The words just poured out of him. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. They weren't entirely sure if they were supposed to respond to this conversation or let it simply happen.

"We were seventeen, hardly. We were so young. How did we ever think we could live? How did we think it would have gone differently? Why did nobody stop us?" He said, hyperventilating a little, "I look at the kids that are here now that are seventeen and Merlin, I can't imagine sending a single one of them out to fight someone who has years of experience on them!" He kicked the post. Hermione wasn't sure who he was angriest with.

"Well, a lot of seventeen year olds managed to make this work." Hermione said, trying to remind him of the hope.

He turned, looking a little less upset, and as he gazed backwards on the courtyard brimming with life, life that he helped protect, his expression softened.

"Yeah, I guess. We might never leave this place, but you know…" He snorted.

"What's it like out there, Hermione? Since you managed to leave?" Ron asked, nudging her shoulder. She winced, not like his poke really hurt her, but even the memory of it made phantom aches arise.

"Shitty, considering I got shot." She replied with a mild chuckle, "Maybe one day now...it has been five years. It's worth bringing up again."

"Mhh, true." Ron checked the time with his wand and set his wine glass on the bottom of the stand, "Anyway, I gotta go. Promised Lav I'd meet her. She has a surprise for me tonight." He said. Hermione, trying not to gag, waved him away.

"Go, go." Harry agreed, "And just remember I don't want all the gritty details." He winced as though he'd had too many of those from Ron already.

"Are you gunna go and find Ginny?" Hermione asked, "I'm up here watching, so I can't enjoy the festivities, but surely you can." She said. Harry pulled a face.

"I think I'm going to stay up here tonight." He said quietly, "If that's okay?"

"Of course." Hermione didn't pry, no matter how much she was dying to, "I'd rather enjoy your company."

And then, after the party, it was time for Hermione to watch Harry and Ginny. There was something...off about them, but nothing she could place her finger upon, not until she passed by Harry's room by accident and saw him with a girl that was definitely not Ginny.

Ginny, instead, was training.

She hardly seemed surprised when Hermione informed her. Hermione hadn't gotten a good look at who, but she figured the person didn't matter.

"Well, it's his right." Ginny said matter-o-factly, continuing her push-ups, "We're broken up?"

"What?" Hermione's shocked tone echoed around the room like a cannon. Ginny sat up, rolling her eyes.

"Not so loud, please. I don't want everyone in here." She muttered.

"But...what?" Hermione repeated numbly.

"I dunno," Ginny sat up, pulling her legs around her arms, "We started talking about it, throwing our names in the bin and all, but I think we both sort of realized the same thing...we weren't like we were before. We were just going through motions. I think we expected to get together like everyone else did and we were always so hung up on that we never sat and wondered if we actually wanted to be together. It was extremely mutual, and I am one hundred percent honest in saying that."

"Wow…" Hermione breathed out, sitting down beside her, "I thought you two were...wow…"

"I know." Ginny laughed, "But you and Seamus? That's the other side of the coin. That's one I would have never expected." She looked at Hermione shrewdly, "Are you sure you aren't dating Draco?"

"No, for the last time, definitely not." Hermione gave a hiss of annoyance.

"You see, if you came out right now and told me that this whole time it was some huge cover up and you and Draco were together I'd just nod and be like, 'yeah, makes sense'. You and Seamus, for some reason, still boggles my mind more than anything else." Before Hermione had the thought to be offended, she continued, "But that's just it! Maybe that's what I should be looking for, or not looking for. I mean, you and Seamus...Oliver and Daphne...George and Luna...those are couples I'd never thought would work but hell, you're all so blissfully happy with each other and I can't help but think that maybe it's the couples you least expect that are those that are meant to work. Maybe having something to defy, a cause to prove your love, makes it worth it. Or something," Ginny stood re-wrapping her wrists, "I dunno."

"Are you mad Harry moved on so fast?" Hermione asked. Ginny gave a 'meh' sound and a shrug.

"We were both away from each other before we realized it. If we'd talked about things, we probably would have broken up ages ago. It's not hard. I slept with Dominic the night of the party after all. He's really not my type, but not bad in bed." She said to Hermione's look of horror, "We're just moving on."

"Harry seemed upset the night of the party…" Hermione said, but she instantly regretted saying it. She didn't want to have Ginny feel bad.

"We loved each other once. You can't turn off feelings. I think he was mourning what we never had, to be honest. He's always been rather melodramatic like that, don't you think?" She asked with a hint of mirth.

Hermione didn't want to say badly of her friend, but she recalled their years at Hogwarts, "Maybe a bit." She conceded.

"A lot a bit." Ginny corrected with a sly grin, "I found it amusing back then, you know? I still do, in a different way. I think we'll come out of this friends." She gave an experimental small punch to the punching bag, "We can't go any other way." She's so matter-o-fact about it that Hermione decides that she's given it a lot of thought and perhaps this is for the best.

"Who are you going to live with?" Hermione asks.

"Someone asked if I was going to move in with you...some people are so dense, sometimes, you know? I said you might be otherwise preoccupied and they just gave me a dumb look. Anyway, I didn't say much else, but I think once the dust settles I'll just move in wherever. It's not much like I do more than sleep there, and there are plenty of places around the castle do...other things. You and I both know that." She gives Hermione a wicked smirk and Hermione doesn't blush under her gaze. They tell each other pretty much everything, as best friends. In fact, Hermione agreed with Ginny. Half the fun of it is pressing against someone else, moans muffles under their hand, jeans pooled around their hips...or at least it is to Hermione. But, only Seamus and Ginny know that. She thinks if other people knew that Hermione actually got off by doing things like this they might have a brain aneurysm.

Ginny laughs at her expression, and Hermione goes back to the halls, makes an 'ahem' at Harry's door and closes the door before someone else- or more people- come across them. Harry looks properly embarrassed and they don't ever talk about it.

The cabins are built, people move into them, and live goes on...the one certainty that five years ago Hermione wouldn't have thought to be true. Even though the hall is filled with pairs once again, Seamus and Hermione have perfected their silencing charms (Hermione likes to be loud and Seamus speaks in Gaelic when he's lost in their passions and close to the edge) and it's not even like they're still trying to hide that they're together (But still not publicizing it) but few catch on anyway. Most of the people that flooded into the previously empty rooms are young and caught up in their own trysts and besides that Seamus and Hermione are out of the room before most wake up and don't get back until most are asleep. Being 'old people' as they'd been dubbed by the younger community and having important jobs means this is the usual way things are.

Somewhere along the way Fred and George and Lee, who still have a broadcast out in case anyone finds their way here that needs it- and someone or two or three still find their way every year- they intercept a broadcast in reply. Another group. A Beauxbatons community hidden out in the Alps, all children or young adults like themselves.

It's decided that they at least deserve to be checked out.

"It's something more," Harry argues, "It's not just us, there's them. Who's to say there isn't others? And isn't it tiresome to just exist in our own little bubble? We could trade, reform. We could do so much."

It's going to be a long journey. They haven't been able to apparate since the beginning when they moved here, since a tracker was placed on that spell ever since. They have to take brooms which is a long and perilous task, and no one's been out that far since the Britain scouts years and years ago.

Plus, it's nearly winter. There's the argument if they should wait until spring, but people are eager and no one can deny that finding others puts hope in everyone's hearts.

In the end, they send out five- Cassius, Viktor, Corner, Hannah...and Seamus. Dean was supposed to go but he broke a hand and it would be difficult to fly with only one hand, and they didn't need any more difficulties. Hermione protested it as much as she could but even she knew he was a talented scout. He was savvy, quick on his feet, and good at staying alive. She would hold him to that.

On the day he was leaving, they lay in their bed, clothed only in the blankets strewn across the mattress. His fingers gripped her waist as his lips trailed up her neck. He breathed out her name, a quiet longing noise, and she turned to face him.

"Any requests?" He asked, "Merlin knows every other damn kid here has come up with something they want, since it's a longer haul."

"Mhh...Peanut butter?" Hermione asked. It wasn't a very European thing, she agreed, but it had been a craving of hers for the last couple months.

"Do I get to lick it off yeh skin?" Seamus asked right in her ear, nipping the bud.

"Only if you come home in one piece," She said raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing else? France is the capital of love, darlin'." He pointed out. Hermione shuddered at his touch. She was sure at this point she was going to jump his bones at least once before he left. She'd become irrevocably addicted to his touch.

"I like anything you get me," She said, but then opened an eye, "Except those pig feet whatever things. Ew."

"A'ww, c'mon. If you had tried em', you'd like 'em." Seamus argued, "Growing up, those were the best to me." Hermione gave a doubtful snort.

"If you say so." She said, "But on most other occasions, I've liked what you've brought back." She amended.

"Well, I'll try to find something good for you." He decided, as Hermione sprinkled little bites across his collar bone. With a soft grunt and a lunge, he reached for his wand on the bedside table, throwing a silencing spell around them and protection against children. He hardly managed to set his wand back down before Hermione had dragged him back down to her.

And when he left, there was a part of her missing. She never thought she'd be so...girly. She always thought that despite whatever, Hermione Granger did not need a man to make her whole. But whole wasn't quite it. As the days dragged on and Seamus was gone longer and longer she still functioned...but she found herself missing him all the time. It was more that he made her more when they were together. Even if they didnt' work side by side, he was there at night to listen to her frustrations and offer solutions. He helped her with her wand work when no one else was around, teaching her new spells they came across on their travels, even if half the time he couldn't do it himself. And in turn, she gave him everything she had. Together they were a more put together unit. Alone, she felt so drained.

Neville was the only other person with someone else on the team gone. She saw his sad eyes and she knew she was a mirror to them. They shared their worries in looks at dinner, at night, another day gone by that they weren't back with their loved ones.

And more than that, she missed all the things she'd done with Seamus. She hadn't ever been one to pleasure herself before all this, and now it paled in comparison. She wasn't sure how Neville was on that front. She had a feeling that they were much more...vanilla in their closed-door relationship. She was under the assumption that they had had sex. Hell, at this point, Hermione was under the assumption that pretty much everyone over the age of seventeen had or was currently having sex...with someone. It was a safe bet, and she took to knocking before every entering anywhere or making her presence known with loud humming or heavy footfalls...she knew better than perhaps anyone the most sheltered places in this monastery. She'd already came across four red-faced couples who luckily had time to correct their clothing before Hermione passed by.

Hermione took a sort of pleasure in just nodding as though she didn't know what they were doing and call out, "Use protection!" as she walked away. The faces at dinner of these younger witches and wizards, and how they couldn't meet Hermione's face was priceless.

After a long while when he didn't return, and it was still within a time period that people expected them to be gone, Hermione threw herself into helping widen their walls. Not only to make ample to room to make more cabins one day, but also to build a farm out farther and have full cages of livestock and maybe even some horses. Their plans more than doubled the space they'd originally mapped out, adding more and more places for food, as they grew bigger in size and in numbers with each passing year. It was definitely tedious work to move the walls and make more, charming them all back with the entirety of the arsenal they'd done before. They had Draco this time, who was a master spell-caster and would have made a fine Curse Breaker in the old world, had it not all gone to shit. He put on spells they hadn't even thought of and commanded the young students under him to help strengthen them with ease. He'd become a most valuable member of their society, their extended family of existence.

And that's how Hermione began to see every single person...part of her family. She would die for each and every person here and she knew a fair amount felt the same for her. Their old lives were gone and thus their old way of thinking of relationships was also gone. In this world, her family was all these survivors. Even if they one day came out of this, if the world went back to normal, they'd still be her family. You couldn't just walk away after something like this.

It's almost spring when they return, the weather turned and the snow melts slowly from the fields. It's been far too long in Hermione's opinion, and it's starting to be too long to everyone else. A month or so, too long. She refuses to imagine all the horrible ways he might be dead. She thinks she'd know if he were, somewhere she can feel that he's still alive. Call it magic or intuition, she's not sure.

She's working the fields with Draco and Neville when she hears happy cheers from the front gates. She can only equate such exalted yelling to one thing...they're back. Neville drops his hoe in the ground without a second thought, tearing past his team members. Draco looks at Hermione, expecting her to do the same, but her heart is caught in her throat. For the first moment ever she begins to wonder if she built up the idea he was still alive. She wonders if she'll run out there if there will be no one to run to, just sorry faces. She can't move.

"He's alive." Draco says quietly, and she wonders if he can see it, but when he looks back, his smile is tight, "He's too goddamn annoying to die." He teases.

Hermione locks her shoulders and returns to working. She tries to convince herself that even if they are all back and fine and okay she still has a job to do and she'd better do it. This field won't ready itself, no matter how many times via magic they've tried.

It isn't until there's a pair of feet rounding the monastery and she hears the sigh of relief that she dares to look, locking eyes with Seamus. It's like that first time, all those years ago, before any of this ever began. It sends bolts through her body, making her stand stiffly in disbelief. He's alive...he's here. He has a scar running down his left side, right above his temple and nearly to his nose, and he looks like he hasn't showered properly in weeks but Merlin he's back.

Hermione looks at the ground and Draco gives a noise from the back of his throat.

"Merlin, I can deal with this. Don't just stand there and eye-fuck each other, go do it. It's making me feel physically ill." He said, nudging the back of her leg with his hoe.

That's really all it takes before Hermione is flinging herself into his arms. He picks her up and spins her around, and she never realized he was so strong. Their foreheads touch and for a second they just sit here, like that, perfectly content to breath in to each other's space.

Then, he grabs her hand and winks back at Malfoy. He mutters something under his breath, but Hermione catches a glimpse of a smile on his face.

Back in their room, they waste little time with anything but tearing off their clothes. This would be the third time that their sexual actions would stand out in her mind, and each had been different. The first was the first time they came together, awkward as every first encounter with a new person is. It was more or less about their own individual release than the other person's. The second time was the first time they were together after she'd been shot. This time was after they admitted to each other there was something more there, something romantic. They'd been slow and tender and spent time mapping out each other's bodies in relation to their own.

This time? This time was all rough; bruising lips brushing against each other, grabbing hands, vicious lust in both of their eyes. It was the pent-up frustration of all the months they'd been away from each other, too caught up in wanting to feel each other to care about much else.

She knew he could be hard; all the quick releases in stairwells and shoved against stone walls weren't in the in the name of love. This was almost like that, but it's like as he moved she could feel every emotion he was experiencing spilling into her as well, just as she was almost sure he could feel hers. It was almost a spiritual experience, their own pleasure heightening the others in a never ending cycle.

His brow beaded with perspiration, one large palm gripping her thighs to maneuver her legs so he hit her just perfectly each time, enough to make Hermione gasp and sputter inaudible praises that urged him on. His other hand gripped the metal headboard, shoving it into the wall each time he ground against her. Hermione had the minor thought to wonder if they had cast a silencing charm, but it left her mind quickly. One one hand, it was mid-day and no one perhaps herself, Seamus, Neville, and Hannah would be in their bedrooms. Also, less pressingly, she simply didn't care if anyone heard them. In fact, she almost wanted someone to hear them. She didn't think anyone, if they were in any vicinity, could ignore the rhythmic pounding of the headboard, Seamus' wonderful tongue speaking foreign prayers, and Hermione's breathy exhaultations. She wanted everyone to know that Seamus Finnigan was the singular person that could release Hermione Granger to such a state.

Her fingers drew lines down his back and she could feel a very literal heat upon his body, one that made him shiny with sweat and caused the places where the balls of his feet hit the mattress to hiss with steam when he shifted. He'd always had a knack for blowing things up, starting fires at mostly irresponsible times, but Hermione felt incredibly powerful to be the one to draw what must be natural power from him. Yet at the same time, as he pleasure increased the rise and chrescendo of her sounds were in time with the way the lights had begun to flicker around her. It wasn't until she realized it might not just be her room that was flickering that she was too far gone to stop, and so was Seamus.

As her pleasure reached her peak and Seamus let out a string of half-English half-forigen curse words and gripped her with his increidbly warm hands the entire room flickered into darkness. He collapsed on top of her, and faintly she heard cries of shock from the compound. Seamus' eyes flickered to the doorway and then outside, and he smirked.

"I think the whole place is down and out of power." He chuckled, looking at Hermione accusingly. She gave him the same look back, her eyes tilting upward to where his hands had quite impressive bent the still warm metal into a new, unnatural shape.

"That's never happened before," HIs eyebrows rose in surprise, "Huh."

"I've never caused an entire grid to shut down." She agreed. They heard people running about the hals, trying to fix it and fell into each other with laughter so hearty and so pure it just erased every bad thing she'd been feeling.

They lay there, ignoring their responsibilities (no one came looking for them, though, so they figured they were forgiven) Seamus told her about what they'd found. It was another colony of young adults and children witches and wizards, hiding out.

A couple 7th years at Beauxbatons had heard about the Battle of Hogwarts and that it had gone south, and that most of the youth went missing or was found dead. Something just didn't sit right with them and they began to wonder if perhaps they'd made it out. So, about six 7th years made a contingency plan; someone found an old ski chalet in the alps and they bought it off, another witch collected food in secret and ferried it there, others got the word around. It was October, the October after, when Voldemort attacked Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. The leader there told them that most of the Durmstrangers had either complied or fought- and died- and there was unlikely a group of them left. But they got nearly their entire school of children to safety with only a few casualties, much better than Hogwarts had managed, Hermione mused. But they had no way of knowing where the Hogwarts group was or where they went, so they just existed like everyone else had. It wasn't until by a fluke someone heard Fred and George's broadcast and well, the rest was history.

"It's different there," Seamus pulled a face, trying not to speak badly of their new allies, but preferring here, "It's cold there, not much crops grow. But their space is unlike ours. Everyone fits in there comfortably...they have some masters there that magicked the space to be much bigger, like Mr. Weasley's tent. They also have lots of medical knowledge there. We have food, the trade makes sense. Plus, I think we all like to know we're not alone." He gave a long sigh.

"Agreed," Hermione said, dancing her fingers on his bare chest, "So, how does it work, though?"

"Well, some came back with us. Some that wanted to escape the cold...makes sense...and a doctor. He'll work with Daphne until she knows all he knows, and then he'll return. Once, every season, we give them food, teach them how to can and make a smoke-house and all. From there...who knows? They also offered sanctuary for anyone that wants to go there. I'm sure some might want to." Seamus shrugged, "Not me, though. I'm quite happy here."

"Because of me or aside from me?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"A little of both," He admitted with a blush, "I'll follow you anywhere, 'Mione, but Merlin...I really prefer Italy."

"Oh!" Hermione said, lifting her head, "Daphne had her baby while you were gone. A girl, they named her Cassiopeia."

Seamus snorted, "Sounds exactly like the sort of pure-blood name I'd expect of 'em." He said, "All purebloods name almost the same. Mouthfuls, like that one, innit?"

"C'mon, she's adorable!" Hermione insisted.

"Does it make you want a babe?" Seamus looked down at her with guarded eyes. She shook her head.

"Nope, still not ready." He seemed to relax a bit into himself to hear that. Seamus' fingers ran over her scar from the bullet, and she shivered at the contact. He was so gentle with it, so quiet about it.

"What would you say for a night on the the town, out of here?" he asked with a slow, sly grin.

"I thought you weren't ever going to let me out again, after I was shot," Hermione teased.

"Well, I'd be with you obviously," Seamus replied, completely serious.

Hermione sat up, frowning. The blanket pooled around her folded legs and she ran her fingers through her hair, "Sea, we both know what happened the last time I was out. And I mean, I want to, but it's bigger here now and I mean when I'm being logical about it we really can't afford for anyone to see-,"

"Hermione, relax," Seamus ran his hands over her fingers, "One of the chicks that came back with us is completely incredible at transfiguration and glamour spells. Whenever they go out, anywhere, she and two others make the team look like totally different people. It lasts the entire night, and it's flawless. I mean, I don't think even 'ole Voldy could see past this. And why shouldn't we," He said, "Enjoy something? I might have already made her promise that we're the first to try it on and that we get to be the first to leave. Whenever you want."

Hermione's mouth hung open, "Seamus, I just-,"

"You snuck out of the camp with no fear and now you're afraid when it's totally all good?" Seamus shook his head, laughing quietly, "You are an enigma, Hermione."

"I wasn't thinking when I left the first time," Hermione mumbled, "I've thought about it since. And it's even more imperative we stay safe now, now when we're making something of ourselves. We can't be warriors forever." She said, "Not for Cassiopeia or any future kids that come."

"Don't think," Seamus leaned in, "Say yes. I will plan everything, I insist. I mean, we should celebrate our anniversary or something."

"It's nowhere near that," Hermione giggled as he kissed her cheeks.

"We've never celebrated before, not really. Not like I wish we could in the other side of this mirrored world. We should since we have the chance." He said firmly.

"Mhh," Hermione shrugged, settling her head upon Seamus' sculpted chest, and his wide palm splayed upon the small of her back, "I think me and you especially, and Neville and Hannah, should get the day off, no questions." She said, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent; he smelled like wet stones and the wood from a broomstick and fresh cut-grass.

"I'm sure that could be arranged," Seamus said, leaning back, "I'm surprised you'd want to though," And when Hermione gave him a weird look he continued, "You'd have to give up all your tasks, delegate to others...hope they do the right job…"

"Arg, dammit," Hermione said, getting up and pulling her pants on, "Why do you do that? You know I can't just let others do my work." She mumbled sourly.

"Because I know that if you had just done nothing all day, and even if I gave you the best night of your life, you'd be pissed if something went wrong." Seamus gave a heavy sigh, "We have the rest of our lives, I look at it." He said, giving her a hopeful smile.

She let out a long breath, but knew he knew her better than she wanted to admit. They found themselves steered toward the dining hall, where lots of the commotion came from. On the way there, they passed Anthony who was scratching his head at the electronics.

"Just went out, kaput!" He said to Hermione as they passed, "For the life of me, can't figure out why...or how to get it back on…"

"You're a smart guy, you'll figure it out," Seamus said, clapping his back. When he turned, Seamus and Hermione shared a glance that almost turned to snorts of laughter.

In the hall, people were gathering around the new people that had returned, the people who had been surviving next to them for years as well.

"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny said, grasping her from the entrance. Her face was wet with tears.

"Ginny," Hermione grabbed her cheeks, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I'm just...happy!" Ginny admitted. Hermione, speechless, took a step back. She was about to question Ginny more when over the crowd, she saw something-someone- she didn't think was alive anymore.

"What? You're kidding…" She whispered softly.

"Oh! Yeah, forgot to say…" Seamus said, with a look that said he absolutely did not forget, but then again they hadn't been talking much since his return, "We found Fleur."

"'Ermione!" Fleur's elated voice floated melodically over the room, "I can't believe we 'ave found you all!" Fleur bounced over, encasing Hermione in a strong hug. Hermione had come to appreciate Fleur during the time she'd known her in the other life she'd led, and it was around the time she'd begun to like Ron and wondered if they might be sister-in-laws one day. Fleur felt like a sister.

"We thought you were dead," Hermione said, suddenly out of breath all at once.

"I thought you all were dead," Fleur responded. A little girl, approximately six or seven, came behind Fleur, her little hand clasp in Ron's bigger one. Although she had the same snowy-blonde hair Fleur had, her freckles and her eyes and her face all screamed exactly whose family she belonged to- she was a Weasley.

"Aunt 'Ermione!" She said gleefully, pointing at Hermione. Hermione froze, eyes darting up to Ron.

"She knew all of us by name, Aunts and Uncles, the likes," Ron said, grinning the widest she'd seen in a long time, motion to himself, Ginny, the twins, and Harry.

"Her name is Willemina...Weasley."

"Ew. Call me Mina." The young girl scrunched up her nose, clearly disliking her longer name, although the namesake of it made Hermione's throat clog.

"When did you…" Hermione started to ask.

"Six months after ze fall," Fleur said, "Come, I think we have much to talk about." She said, motioning to a table. Hermione began to follow, then looked back at Seamus.

"I didn't know her that well. Sides, got to help the others settle in, ya know." He said, shrugging, "Enjoy this."

Fleur gathered them, and Mina sat on Ron's lap, having clearly already picked a favorite Uncle, and Ginny commented for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. Next to Fleur sat a girl in similar coloring, and it took Hermione a long second to place her. It was Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, although she was no longer the 8 year old from the Tournament, or even the 11-year-old she'd seen at the wedding. Now, she was 17, and looked exactly as her sister had the first time Hermione had met her.

Fleur had participated in the battle, although she hadn't known she was pregnant at the time. She'd holed up in some of the secret passage ways for the next two weeks, dodging Death Eaters and surviving. It had been then she'd realized her condition. When she escaped, she saw there was nothing left for her here anymore.

"So Bill...mum...dad...Charlie...Percy…?" Ginny asked softly, although it had already been mostly acknowledged.

"I'm so sorry," Fleur looked close to tears, "Gone." Ginny's lip quivered, but she only nodded.

Fleur talked about how she knew that Beauxbatons might be a new target, and she paid all the money she had to get out of England safely. She didn't know how her and her sister would survive, but when she arrived at her alma matter, she saw there were already precautions in place. And who wouldn't have wanted a Tri-Wizard Tribute on their side, Hermione mused. They escaped, and well, the rest was some of what they already knew.

"We saw bodies of you all, we thought you all were gone." Fleur said, bringing out a photo she had of everyone from the wedding and a newspaper clipping of Harry, since he was disguised in the wedding, "I showed her every night, to remember. It was difficult to explain to her you were all alive." She chuckled, "But I'm so 'appy."

"What happens now?" Ron asked, "Are you just here...to visit?"

"I am 'here to stay. I 'ave found the rest of my family. I am not going to say goodbye again. Gabby 'as already agreed to stay 'here too." Gabby nodded vigorously, "It is better here. Together."

It felt like a victory, finding them. It was small and didn't change things in the bigger view, but to Hermione, it felt like one of the best news she'd had in eons.

"She's so cute," Hermione said, looking at the little daughter, "I just...it's a little mind-boggling."

"I was just as surprised. And I thought, 'this is no time to be bringing a child in', and yet...I couldn't. She reminds me of Bill sometimes so much it scares me."

"Fleur," Harry asked quietly, "Do you know what ever happened to Teddy Lupin? I know his parents are dead, but...we looked, in the beginning, I couldn't find him anywhere."

"I thought about trying to find 'im too, to bring him with me. Lupin and Bill were friends, bien sur. But someone is hiding him better than I could look. I'm sorry, I do not know what happened, but I have to think maybe he's safe, since I have not 'eard a thing about 'im."

"Oh," Harry's face fell.

"Harry, you were in a coma, you couldn't have saved him when we were leaving even if you wanted!" Fred pointed out, shaking his head, "Don't feel bad mate. Like Fleur said, I'm sure he's hidden. Like us."

"We'll see him again, don't worry," George said- the twins doing an excellent job of acting positive, but Hermione wasn't sure they believed it themselves.

Fleur was also very surprised to find that Hermione and Ron, nor Harry and Ginny, were together.

"Well, you know how it is, five...six years changes things," Ginny casually waved her hand.

"And Ron and I we were never together to begin with." Hermione added after a short second.

"I 'ad truly thought," Fleur pouted, "I am just surprised."

"More aunts and uncles for me, then?" Mina asked, and this caused Fleur to smile.

"Yes my daffodil, you always see the brightest of things." She amended.

Out of the gathered group, only three were currently attached. Ron went and fetched Luna and Lavender, but not Seamus. Hermione wasn't sure if he knew or not, but either way Seamus was unavailable.

"You look like my dad looked, mum says," Mina said, going up to Lavender and touching her scars tenderly.

"Yeah, just like Bill," Ron whispered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I know they can be a bit scary-," Lavender began, but Mina shook her head.

"I like them." Little Mina had the absolute resolve of her mother, but the kindness of her father. The look on Lavender's face was indescribable.

Luna immediately captured the girl's attention, by describing in vivid details all the creatures she could find in the Italian countryside- some magic, some not. Some real, some Hermione were pretty sure were only myths.

"So, the rest of you...you're alone?" Fleur sounded distressed.

"Me and Harry, well it's new. We're not alone, you know, just not together with anyone." Ginny said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry about us. It just needs time."

"I'm alone. If you know any single, attractive French girls, set me up," Fred said, pointing a thumb toward himself, "I'm not even joking!"

"Fred," Fleur shook her head, "You are the same as I remember you. And, I doubt there's a girl back home that wouldn't love you."

"What do you say, George? Maybe we go vacation in France soon?" Fred said, smacking his twin's shoulder.

"Why him? He's with Luna?" Ron said, frowning.

"Well, Ronnikins, when we're both there and all the girls fall for George and then find out he's taken, they will turn to the equally- if not more attractive twin and fall deeply in love with me. Wingman."

"Then there's Hermione," Ron said, looking at her with something akin to pity, "But she practically runs this place, so you know, guess there's not a lot of time to-,"

"Actually," Hermione didn't know how she found her voice, and as small and timid as it sounded coming out, it paused Ron. She bit her lip, "I'm with Seamus. I have been for awhile now." Three years, she thought with an inward jolt, but who was counting?

Ginny gave her a tiny thumbs up, Harry scratched his head but then nodded, the twins made 'ooh' and kissing noises, and Ron just stared at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"Like...Seamus, Seamus? Gryffindor Seamus?" He questioned, as though there was a second Seamus running around somewhere and a distinction needed to be made.

"Oh!" Fleur gasped, cupping her lips, "Zee boy who was on zee trip?" She asked. Hermione chuckled, feeling freer, nodding.

"'E is a very good man, 'Ermione." Fleur said with utmost sincerity, "Zere is this annoying girl that came with us, she took a shining for him, you understand? But 'e always refused 'er," Fleur said with a stupid smile.

Hermione felt a flash of jealousy, "Oh?" She asked. She had no fear Seamus would cheat on her, but she'd grown protective of him, naturally.

"No! It is ok! 'E finally shut her up by saying 'e 'ad zee love of 'is life waiting for 'im 'ere." Fleur said, her voice dropping and her grin widening, "Zee love of 'is life." She repeated.

"Merlin's beard…" Ron said slowly, "Why'd you never say anything?" He asked. Hermione gave a self-conscious shrug.

"You never asked."

Like a sixth sense, she turned, just in time to see Seamus enter the dining hall on a tour, showing some of the people he brought back with them around, waving his hands and laughing. The group held onto his words, and as Seamus was spinning to show them the largest gathering space, his gaze met Hermione's. It softened and Hermione felt like she was dizzy all of a sudden, but in the best of ways.

Love of his life...Fleur had zero reason to lie. And, these words didn't stiffen Hermione, but instead she felt a giddy glee rising in her chest, one wholly uncontainable.

Merlin, she loved him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts that I had to say about this I've forgotten XD But anyway, if you like Seamione, they're a semi-important pairing (end game is Dramione) but that's the story that made me ship these two to begin with :)
> 
> Oh! The one note I remember! I started writing this after I became obsessed with a particular TV show and a particular ship on that show last year, and this was written in a lot of parts to pay homage or as a easter egg to that. If anyone guesses the TV show and/or the ship, you get a free drabble ;)
> 
> I've also started a thing where you get a drabble (a short writing) of a ship of your choice if you review ten times on a fanfic. But, since this is only going to be 3 parts, you get one if you review on all three parts, something of substance (ie; not just a review to get a drabble like 'good' or 'update'). This is super easy to get on this fic, just saying' ;)
> 
> Hopefully part 3 will be out before the year is done! That's my goal is to ACTUALLY finish some of the fics i've started...I know, what a strange concept ;)
> 
> Please, oh pretty please, if you like this at all, review! Don't assume others will leave the nice thoughts that you have about it, because 9 out of 10 will not. I'm knee deep in applying for grad schools, so really, make my day :) It only takes a second!

**Author's Note:**

> Great! Glad to see you made it through part uno. I'm not sure when Part 2 will be updated; I have the whole thing baaaasically done but I think I might want to wait until I update the last chapter of the Green Games, which, now that this is up, I can finish and I hope to have it up by year's end. So, the chapter two of this will most likely come within hours of that chapter.
> 
> I started writing this approximately a year ago, maybe just short some. At the time, I had become deeply engrossed in another TV show, and if you go back on my stories ANs from around that time I'm sure you'll find it, and tbh a particular couple on that TV show inspired this, in a lot of ways. I think the biggest references are in the second part of this. Buuuut if anyone (and the first one) manages to get it right, because it's not obvious and very subtle, I'll write you a one shot of a character couple of your choice from any of the TVs I have listed that I watch on my profile. The only thing I will say is perhaps it should have been a prison instead of a monastery they ended up in...
> 
> Second order of business is that this story, I think, walks the tightrope of the ratings. Right now I have it on T, but if anyone reads this and feels like it's graphic enough to deserve an 'M' rating, lemme know and I'll change it, because I wouldn't want anyone to walk into it and feel unprepared.
> 
> Third order of business is that if you want to see the cover, go to my art/fic tumblr, youngbloodlex22, and I'll have a better version of it up there. And, also consider following me :) Starting from basically now I'll be posting covers of stories I intend to start as like a 'coming soon', I keep updates of what I'm working on, and if you have a burning question, you can come and talk with me over there!
> 
> Forth note is I realized both my Seamione stories are set in depressing times? Like...I don't think they can only exist in times of stress and strife...so one day after this I will be doing a lighthearted school years Seamione...
> 
> Last is please oh please remember to leave a review if you like this! It would make my next two weeks of college finals so much more bearable :)


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